


Woven: Wait For Me

by Broegan, maryjanewatson



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 162,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broegan/pseuds/Broegan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryjanewatson/pseuds/maryjanewatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of all the twists and turns life inevitably brings, Mary Jane finds out which people are worth waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Given the travesty that it is the lack of Mary Jane Watson-centric fics in this world, we decided to take matters into our own hands and holy moly, look what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

MJ hates staying home.

Between her mother being gone, her older sister having run off to marry her high school sweetheart (a huge mistake in MJ’s opinion), and her drunken father, she’s glad for any distraction that will keep her out of this cramped up house that reeks of smoke and mildew. So when one of the boys at her school invites her to go to a party someone is holding, the mandatory course of action when one’s parents are out of town, she doesn’t hesitate in saying yes.

As she gets ready, MJ stares into the smudge ridden mirror that hangs in front of her on her bedroom wall, too small to reflect all of her. She tucks a long red curl behind her ear, then starts to trace a tiny scar that is hidden on her hairline she received from tripping while playing hide-and-seek, landing head first into the sidewalk as a kid. It’s something nobody would be able to see without it being pointed out to them, but to her it looks noticeable enough to get her attention every time she looks at her reflection. She’s always had a knack for finding something to critique about herself. Like her too square, sharp jaw. Her abnormally large green eyes. The freckles over her nose and shoulders.

She can hear her father guffaw and drop a beer bottle over something he heard on the television downstairs. Her brow furrows, and she gets an all too familiar sinking in her stomach that the man always seems to bring out in her. _I can’t wait to get out of here_ , she thinks to herself. _For good_.

Throwing on her favourite jacket and tugging on her black leather combat boots, she heads downstairs in a hurry to leave unnoticed. She takes her mobile phone from out of her pocket, partially to see if the boy who invited her, Kyle, is here yet, but mostly to nip any chance of interaction with her father in the bud. Not that it works.

"Where d’ya think you’re goin’, Mary Jane?" He slurs. MJ takes a deep breath before even attempting to talk to him. She knows enough by now that ignoring him will just make him louder, and she’s not up for a fight tonight.

"I’m going out," she confirms without looking at him, hoping he’ll be glad for her absence, as she usually is for his.

"Goin’ out, always goin’ out, just like that mother of yours. Never stayed home like she shoulda. And look where she ended up! You’re all the same, women are all the same…" he mumbles, and MJ decides to stop listening to him.

She never had the best relationship with her mother, but she can remember a time where it was at least better than this. All of a sudden she’s six, propped on top of the kitchen counter, watching her mother make dinner. MJ had an unpeeled carrot in her tiny hand, using it as a microphone. Ever since she could remember she wanted to be on TV. She wanted to feel so important. That way she could to say was worth something.

"Mrs. Mommy, what are you making for supper tonight?" She inquired as she extended her arm and kicked her legs back and forth off the counter in anticipation. MJ remembers the faint smile her mother gave until her father shouted at them for God knows what.

It was only a few years after that her mother was walking home alone after a late night shift at the local pharmacy. It was winter, and the streets were dark and the snow was falling heavily, building up on the ground. It was a hit and run. They never found the driver who did it.

She shakes her head coming back to reality. Without even giving him the satisfaction of a reply, she slams through the screen door and runs down the front steps. Kicking an empty beer bottle out of her way, she tilts her head back and lets out a deep breath. She’s not going to let him get to her tonight. Looking over to the house right next to hers, she sees the curtains in the top window flap, as if someone had just closed them. Their houses are connected, it's a beaten up old complex in Queens, and despite being so close to them, she doesn’t know much about her neighbours other than that they’re an older couple and a boy she goes to school with. She wonders if they can hear her father screaming at her at night.

The briskness on her cheeks is refreshing and calms her down a little. She decides to walk her way to the party since it’s not too far, and it'll give her time to clear her head. She texts Kyle saying they’ll meet there, as he seems to be running late anyhow. By the time she gets to the party, no one will think her day had been anything other than fantastic. She will make sure of that.

Putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket, trying to keep warm as a gust of wind blows by, she hears a whistling noise behind her. She already knows what it’s about.

"Yeah, Red, strut your stuff. You’re lookin’ good tonight.”

It wasn’t abnormal. MJ was used to advances from men. She actually encouraged it more often than not. Being desired somehow made her feel worth at least something; that she wasn’t entirely useless, that at least _someone_ wanted her. “In your dreams!” She shouts back flirtatiously and flips her hair, playing the part as she’s done so many times before. They howl as they drive on by, and an overwhelmingly emptiness that she has become a professional at suppressing threatens to creep up from the cold place her father’s words left in her bones.

By the low bass thumping in her ear drums and the faint shouts in the distance, she can tell she’s close to her distraction, and she unconsciously walks faster towards it.

* * *

A bead of sweat trickles down the nape of her neck. MJ must have been dancing for hours now, with her fourth gin and tonic swishing in her empty stomach. Kyle showed up about an hour ago and he is absolutely loving the attention MJ has been giving him. They’re dancing really close; his hands around her waist as they move to the beat and MJ’s head tilted all the way back, swaying left and right, escaping into the music.

This is where MJ needs to be. Where she can just let go of the real world, even if it's just for the night. She has grown accustomed to this, and over time it becomes the only thing that could make her duration here bearable; her time before she can become who she’s really meant to be. Somebody worth remembering. Only one more year until high school is over for good and maybe she’ll get a chance for a fresh start.

She leans back a little too far while dancing and collapses to the floor, Kyle nearly falling on top of her.

“Jesus, MJ-- I think we should get you another drink,” He jokes as she laughs hysterically. Helping her back up he looks at her with hungry eyes, nearly devouring her then and there.

"Wait-- I got to… One sec." MJ shouts over the booming tune, her spinning head and light-feeling limbs making her realize it actually was one too many drinks. Kyle hangs on to her hand.

"I’ll be right back!" She snaps a little too hard trying to free herself, so she covers it up with a smile. He begrudgingly releases his grip.

"Don’t be long!" He demands as he shimmies over to the nearest girl; exchanging one for the other with such ease.

She stumbles her way across the floor to the washroom where she sees that it’s already occupied and there’s a line of girls, some she knows, some she doesn’t, waiting to be next. Sighing loudly, she strides over to the closet to retrieve her jacket and exits through the back door, where she carefully walks down the steps and hunches over a bush. There aren't many people out here besides a couple making out a few meters away and a guy passed out on the lawn.

How many nights has she spent like this? Feeling comforted amongst faceless strangers, dancing all of her troubles away for a moment. She started going out when she was 14, as soon as her body developed enough for her baby face to become sharper, her hips more curved and she could flirt her way into clubs. She never felt comfortable at home. Always itching to get out as if she were allergic to the air itself inside of it. The nights felt much warmer on crowded dance floors, with music and people and enough commotion to drown out even the loudest voices in her head.

She usually stays away from alcohol lest it make her more like her father (something she has always desperately tried to avoid) but she doesn’t deny it if it’s a particularly hard night. She knows it can bring her the oblivion she seeks, and sometimes the dancing and the music just aren’t enough.

"You good there, girly?" She hears a deep voice ask. Looking towards the owner of the question she notices him from Midtown High. He’s tall, dark, and if she remembers correctly (or if his clothes are anything to go by), insanely rich.

"Yeah, nothing screams ‘good’ like a girl about to hurl," she says, half joking, half wanting him to leave her be. He gives a throaty laugh.

“I’m Harry Osborn.”

"Well, Harry Osborn, your timing is impeccable. Is this how you meet all your conquests?" MJ quips.

The grin on his face is sweet, with a touch of mischief, making him look younger than his carefully picked outfit would suggest.

“Something tells me you’re not the type of girl who can be conquered.”

"Charming _and_ smart.”

"You’re Mary Jane, right? Mary Jane Watson?"

"MJ."

"It’s nice to meet you, despite the circumstance, MJ." It genuinely sounds like he's serious, and it throws her off for a moment. She straightens up and cocks her head while looking at him, trying to gauge what he really meant. It takes a few seconds before she can reply.

“See you at school, Harry.” She gives him a wink and a nod, then walks around to the front of the building to head home. Enjoyable encounter aside, she still feels wobbly and she’s not too proud of herself for drinking the way she did.

“And where do you think you’re going?!” She can hear Kyle shout jokingly from somewhere behind her.

“I think I’m just going to call it a night.”

“There’s no way in hell you’re gonna leave me, MJ!” He hollers from the steps.

“I’ll see you on Monday, Kyle.” She starts to walk down the sidewalk trying to ignore him and everyone else left at the house.

“God damn tease… Waste of my time,” She can hear him mutter under his breath as he walks back in.

The thing is, MJ likes being noticed. Validated. But it always gets to a point where she knows it’s artificial. It’s not real, and she wants something that is. But the problem is, that requires letting someone in and she’s seen what that does to people, her parents being the prime example. Everything was roses when they first met, high hopes and dreams until they got comfortable enough to let intimacy take the masks off and her mother revealed how weak she really was and how manipulating her father was. Letting people in means giving yourself up, and ruining the lives of the people in your wake. MJ knows better.

If you told her to count the amount of boyfriends she’s had throughout the years, she probably couldn’t tell you; from boys around the neighbourhood standing under her window to try and get her attention and nearly graduated high schoolers following her under the bleachers, it’s all a bit of a blur. Now, if you ask her how many of them actually meant something to her? Well, that was a much easier question to answer.

It’s funny how boys make you feel like you owe them something after dancing with them; MJ is all too familiar with that. She just wants to have fun, to get her mind off of things enough to be able to keep going in the morning. Unfortunately, they always seem to have something else on their minds. Despite what people say, despite all the rumours of MJ hooking up with all the college guys in the city and their dads, the truth is that she’s just waiting for someone special. She rolls her eyes at the thought. _You’re so cliche. Fairy tales aren’t real._

* * *

By the time she gets home, the high of the evening has worn off and she can feel every ache in her body from when she fell. Her skin is cold from the morning dew, and she feels dizzy with the remains of the alcohol in her system. Her father will be passed out by now, so she doesn’t bother with being quiet as she enters the house. Even as she stumbles up the steps to her bedroom he lays there, snoring loudly in his old armchair.

Out of all the places in that house, her bedroom is the only one she can stand. She never wasted time with decorations, pretty curtains or cute bedsheets. It was somewhere she could hide when there were no parties to go to, though, somewhere to vanish when her father would get too rowdy-- a common occurrence in the Watson household.

One of the only items she likes in the room is her Aunt Anna’s old dresser she got as a birthday gift when she turned ten. It was bigger than her at the time, and made from very bulky wood. It often served to barricade the door when MJ needed to be left alone.

She takes off her uncomfortable clothes and changes into a pair of ratty old sweatpants and a baggy band t-shirt. Sitting down in front of the mirror, MJ reaches for the dampened wipes and starts to remove her makeup, another armour of hers. She can’t remember the last time anyone saw her without it.

Glancing over to her neighbour’s window, she can see the light is still on. Do other people have to try so hard? It feels like she spends all of her energy trying to just get through the day, trying to drown out her father’s voice in her head telling her she will never amount to anything. Is everyone just going through life pretending everything’s fine, or is the problem with her? Does irrevocable happiness even exist? If there is one thing MJ’s sure of, it's that she will try everything in her power to find out. That starts with getting out of this place.

But in the meantime, this will have to suffice. She walks over to her window, still staring at the boy’s room across from hers. She notices through a slit in the drapes how the walls are lined with race car decals, and wonders what it would be like to have somebody to share her passions with. Somebody to read the articles she keeps hidden under her bed that she’s written for school. Others pretending to be a journalist from a big newspaper covering some make-believe big scoop. Or even the stories she’s come up with in the middle of boring classes, long enough now to fill up an entire book.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts she opens her window and crawls out onto the roof, deciding to watch the sun come up.

* * *

The sky is clear and there’s no wind, only the faintest of breezes passing through the quiet neighbourhood. The night is still and quiet, even the old alley cats seem to have given into the silence. It's peaceful. Until she hears a soft thunk. Her eyes widen, searching for what it could be, and notices it’s an Advanced Physics textbook landing next to her. Looking beyond it, she can see a scruffy head of brown hair that seems to be defying gravity, pointing out in all directions with a will of its own, coming out from the window that is across from hers.

He isn’t the most graceful person, that’s for sure. His limbs are a little too long for his body and he doesn’t know exactly what to do with them, like he’s recently been through a growth spurt and hasn’t gotten used to the new distances he can reach now. But he gets up on the roof eventually.

Realizing that he isn’t alone, his eyes meet MJ’s and he looks surprised and then embarrassed.

“Oh. I didn’t-- I thought-- I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were up here. I’ll go.”

A smile creeps onto her lips as she watches him fumble, trying to get back through the small window with his book under his arm and too-long limbs to fit all at once through it. Craving the quietude before, now she suddenly doesn’t want him to leave.

“This roof is as much yours as it is mine. You should stay.”

He pauses for a second, staring at her, like he doesn’t know how to react, or if she’s really serious. It's almost as if he’s not used to people talking to him much, or actually wanting his company. The way he looks into MJ’s eyes makes her feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like she’s being seen for the first time by someone who wants to take everything about her in. _Don’t be stupid, Mary Jane_. Now she's the one starting to feel embarrassed. He needs to get his stupid gaze off of her.

“So, race cars, huh?”

That works. He looks down, trying to position himself comfortably on the roof to mask how this has flustered him.

“I don’t have the heart to tell my Aunt May I’ve grown out of them,” he shrugs. He doesn’t look back up at her as he admits this.

“So, what are you into? Advanced physics?” MJ says pointing at the book, sure that she’s making a joke.

“Uhm, yeah, kinda,” he starts hesitantly. “I mean, it’s not as high profile as, let’s say, biochemistry is nowadays, but there’s just a poetry and a flow to it that’s kinda awesome,” he babbles excitedly.

MJ can tell he doesn't get this question often. But the way he seems so passionate about it inspires her, and it makes her want to hear him talk about it more. Even if she can’t understand a word of it.

“Tell me more about this physics thing. What’s so poetic about it?” MJ asks, genuinely curious and trying to continue the conversation. She’s always loved reading and writing and has even tried her hand at writing a poem or two whenever she felt exceptionally inspired. But she still has a hard time seeing the beauty in a bunch of incomprehensible formulas.

“Well, you see, physics is in everything,” the boy states, intensely. “It’s in our bodies, in books, in the way we’re sitting here right now, in the stars above us, in our mobile phones, in every atom and molecule that exists in the universe. It studies how and why things exist, how they interact with other things, where we came from and where we’re going from here. It’s basically the study of existence itself.” He catches MJ’s eye and notices he’s rambling.

“And, uhm-- that’s pretty cool.” He finishes.

MJ looks at him as if he had grown two heads. He’s kind of adorable and reminds her of an overexcited puppy wagging it's tail. How can he make advanced science sound so interesting and exciting?

“You are _such_ a nerd,” she teases.

The boy starts to look offended until he sees that MJ has a goofy smile plastered on her face. He smiles too, and that sets off a fit of giggles that leaves them both flushed and mirth-eyed.

“Maybe I should get you to tutor me, or something. I mean, I wouldn’t want to miss out on so much beauty in the world, right?” She pokes. A part of her isn’t kidding, though.

“In the universe,” he corrects her. “And, I mean--” He scratches the back of his neck, a lopsided grin creeping on to his face. “It _is_ almost criminal to be dismissive about it.”

“How is it that we’ve lived side by side since forever and we’ve never really seen each other before?” MJ wonders.

“I see you.” He states a little too quickly. “I-- uh-- what I mean is… I’ve just seen you around from time to time.”

MJ bites the inside of her lip. His reply makes her feel a little shy, which is unusual for her; she’s not easily caught off guard. Then she wonders if she’s really so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she isn’t that observant with what could be right in front of her. It makes her feel a bit guilty and a little selfish.

“It’s alright,” the boy says reassuringly, “I try to make myself pretty unnoticeable anyway.”

It saddens MJ to hear it, that he doesn’t want to be noticed when all she’s ever wanted is for people to pay attention to her. Although she’d never admit it, she is compelled to know everything about this tall scruffy boy in front of her who loves physics and his aunt enough not to break her heart telling her he doesn’t like the wallpaper she chose for him anymore.

“Do you have Mr. MacDonough for Algebra?” MJ tries to lightly change the subject.

“Do you mean Mr. I-don’t-bother-to-use-a-Tic-Tac-or-mint-in-my-lifetime?!” the boy jokes, making an exaggerated disgusted expression, his face lighting up.

“Oh my God, right?! It’s honestly terrible. Does he not notice when flowers die around him?” She quips back and a deep, throaty cackle escapes the boy’s lips. He throws his head back and clutches his sides. MJ is overwhelmed with satisfaction at making him laugh. It’s a sound that she could definitely get used to.

After he composes himself, he answers, “Yeah, we’re in the same class actually. I sit in the back, though, so I understand if you didn’t--”

“No, I know you are. You’re always the one who has the answers.” He turns red at the mention of this. It’s then that MJ realizes how she isn’t used to boys enjoying her company like this, with no ulterior motives, just talking to her because they want to. It feels so real and… Easy.

“Yeah, but knowing the answers isn’t as hard as creating something from scratch. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to write any stories like you do.”

MJ looks down, suppressing the urge to smile. She didn’t really think anybody paid attention to the school’s paper. The staff working on it isn't very big and the circulation of the periodical left a lot to be desired, sometimes barely making it out of the cramped staff room. But she worked hard on reporting the school announcements and weekly buzz, even if it was about how the principal was able to fish Suzie Snyder’s retainer out of the trash during fifth period. And here he was, proof her work was not only being read but, dare she hope, even appreciated?

After that the conversation flows easily. They talk about where they're planning to go after high school, they both want to get into the famous Empire State University, and a mix of inconsequential things. It’s enough to make them both feel at ease and MJ notices she’s relaxed for the first time in a long time. There's just something about this boy.

There’s a lull in the conversation after a while and he starts to flip through his Advanced Physics textbook. The silence actually feels comfortable, and she doesn't feel like she has to keep talking; she can just be for a little while. She finds her eyes unintentionally wandering to the boy’s face, so she decides to take this time to examine it. His eyebrows are bushy and unruly just like his hair, but it somehow suits him. He wears these wide rimmed glasses that look a little too big for his face, and too old to have originally belonged to him. She guesses they were maybe passed down from his dad. When he’s concentrating particularly hard at whatever he’s reading, he lightly nips at his bottom lip and a crease starts to form between his brows. In some part in the back of her mind that she barely registers, she vaguely wonders what it’d be like to trace it with her finger.

MJ doesn’t realize the sun is coming up until she hears the first birds of the morning chirping, but she hardly even looks up. She’s still fascinated by the boy so engrossed in his textbook that he doesn’t even move. The boy who made her crappy night into one she’s going to remember for awhile.

When the sun is fully in the sky it seems to break the boy’s concentration. He looks at MJ sheepishly, and she knows that it’s time for their-- whatever this was-- to come to an end. She senses with a tinge of hope, that he wants to go back inside even less than she does.

“Thanks for the company. I-- I appreciate it.” MJ confesses.

“Yeah, it was really nice. Even though you stole my roof and all,” the boy kids, getting a surprised half-laugh, half-scoff from MJ.

“Uh-huh. Shouldn’t you be getting back to your race cars now?” MJ couldn’t bottle the huge grin on her face. Her cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling, and she doesn’t know when the last time that happened was.

He laughs his way back to his bedroom, not feeling embarrassed in the slightest when he hits his head on the rail, getting a snicker out of her.

“I meant to do that.”

She rolls her eyes jokingly. As he’s about to shut the window, she remembers to ask, “Oh, by the way, I never got you name!”

“It’s Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Right. I’ll see you at school, Tiger.”

MJ could be mistaken, but she could swear Peter was blushing.

“Definitely, Mary Jane.”

It almost feels like the seconds shared between them in this moment lasts for hours. Neither of them wants to say goodbye, so they don’t, and it feels like the conversation still hangs suspended in the air in this space only the two of them know.

MJ crawls back into her bedroom and closes the window shut behind her. Sliding down the wall, she hugs her knees, resting her chin on top of them and beams. Her skin is tingling with excitement and her toes wiggle against the carpet as if she just couldn’t stay still.

This is probably the first time in a long while that MJ is actually looking forward to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Alcohol Mention/Consumption
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

Midtown High is, by all standards, an average high school. It’s a big brick building, large enough to hold all of the teenagers in Forest Hills. It has all of the main facilities one could expect from a place like it. A big courtyard, a library, a few gymnasiums, a huge cafeteria, track and field, science and computer labs and, of course, a lot of classrooms.

It’s a public school, so there are all kinds of people studying there. From the less fortunate in terms of money and popularity, to the rich kids who were expelled from everywhere else. Because of this, it’s extremely cliquey. There’s no shortage of students thinking they’re better than others and making sure to let everyone know it. MJ has seen it more than a few times. The jocks walking passed the science labs shouting abuse at the kids staying past school hours on their own accord. Cheerleaders making snarky comments at the girls who didn’t make the squad… It’s all very petty and MJ can’t wait to move on from this place, too.

The school also has a deal with one of the most prestigious universities of New York, Empire State, known as ESU. As part of the admission process, students have to write an essay in their last year of high school. The paper needs to be about a visit to an important place in the city, as chosen by both the school and the university’s faculties.

This year, the field trip is to Oscorp Industries, a multi-billion dollar multinational corporation; one of the biggest buildings in all of New York. MJ stands in the front of the school with all of the other seniors waiting for the bus.

She rolls her eyes, overhearing the who-hooked-up-with-who over the weekend from the students behind her. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turns her back and wills the bus to appear soon so she doesn’t have to be subjected to this any longer. She stands on her toes, looking for the bus, eager to get to the lively city where MJ belonged.

“Mary Jane!”

MJ isn’t used to hearing her full name, and when she turns around she can see Peter crossing the street, dodging and winding around the bodies. He has an older model camera strapped around his neck and his hair, if possible, looks even messier than the night before. Not that she noticed, or anything.

She suddenly feels nervous, but it isn’t an unwelcome feeling.

“Peter! You’re coming to Oscorp as well?” She realizes the question is stupid as soon as it leaves her lips. All of the seniors this semester are going.

He either doesn't notice or doesn't care. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, you kiddin’ me?” He says excitedly. “It has one of the biggest science lab complexes in the country, it’s like walking into Disneyland!”

“ _Nerd_.” She says under her breath and he gives her a quiet laugh.

Time seems to go by faster with Peter, and before they know it, the yellow bus eventually rolls up next to them. They all line up, getting into the vehicle one by one.

Everyone finds their seats as if they were assigned. All the ‘cool’ kids merge to the back, sitting side by side, while the rest make their ways to whatever is left. That means Peter and MJ don’t sit together. As Peter looks for a vacant place, MJ sees some of the known jocks whisper amongst themselves and laugh, pointing at Peter.

“Hey, Parker, looks like there’s no room for you! But you should be used to that by now!”

MJ sees Peter lower his head and pretend not to hear, and she knows that it’s because he’s heard this kind of thing before. The boys don’t stop their taunting, even after Peter has sat down several rows away from them. He looks so uncomfortable that she can’t help but to say something.

“Cut it out, Flash!” The words came out before she even realized she was saying them. “You’ve had your fun, now leave him alone.”

“Ooooh, MJ’s got a new boyfriend,” Flash teases, making exaggerated kissing sounds.

“MJ and Parker sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Flash’s girlfriend Liz, the head cheerleader, starts singing and before long, the entire back of the bus is making a ruckus. MJ can feel her face heat up with embarrassment; not so much for herself, she realizes, but for Peter. He’s sitting so low in his seat, almost as if he’d wish the ground would swallow him whole. She shouldn’t have said anything.

She doesn’t have the courage to look at him any longer so she puts in her earbuds, deciding to drown everyone out.

They’re entering the city now and MJ’s eyes can’t help but light up as they start to pass all the skyscrapers. She gets lost in the furor of the people coming and going, all looking very important and like they have a purpose in life. Like they have somewhere to be, someone to meet, and she longs to be one of them.

They finally arrive at the front of the Oscorp building and Flash and the rest of them seem to have their attention elsewhere. MJ raises the hood on her jacket and walks down the steps of the bus. She can see Peter waiting there for her.

“Mary Jane, I just wanted to say--”

MJ takes out her earbuds. “I know, I’m sorry, I just made everything worse, I--”

“Wait, no, what are you talking about?”

They both look confused for a few seconds and then burst into laughter.

“Oh, God, I thought you were mad at me for telling him off,” MJ admits, feeling relieved as her giggles subside.

“Are you kidding me? What you did was really cool, and you didn’t have to, but I-- it meant a lot.” Peter replies so earnestly MJ smiles despite herself.

“You ready to go in?” he says, bumping her shoulder, “This can be your first tutoring lesson.”

* * *

The Oscorp Tower stands out amongst the majestic buildings in Manhattan as one of the biggest and most sophisticated structures in the world. In it functions the scientific experiments and studies the company is known for, as well as the business side of Oscorp Industries.

Not much is known about the founder and still CEO, Norman Osborn. Only that he’s an exceptionally skilled scientist and that he has a son, Harry.

 _Harry_ … The faint memory of meeting him the other night peeks its way in the back of MJ’s mind as she sees his last name plastered all over the company’s entrance hall. MJ can’t really recall him being at those types of parties before that. She wonders if he’s going to be here today.

The security they have here is a little overwhelming. They all have to take a photo to print onto a visitor badge (they totally got MJ’s bad side) and they have to get their fingerprints scanned. Last but not least, they had to all get frisked down by an abnormally large man. Are they afraid of who they’re letting in? Or what they could let out?

Finally when that’s all over with, they walk around to the different types of labs, led by a teacher that no one is really paying attention to. Peter tries to explain what kind of work they’re doing in each as simply as he can to MJ, who’s genuinely trying to keep up with all the information. She’s glad that she has someone to talk to, otherwise she’s sure she’d collapse down to the last floor of the superstructure out of sheer boredom.

“What does that thing-a-maboop do?” MJ points to an intimidating looking machine.

“Ah yes, the _thing-a-maboop._ I believe that _is_ the technical term. But us common folk call it a top of the line Laboratory Magnetic Stirrer. It allows you to economically mix a solution for an extended period of time in the laboratory," Peter goes on.

MJ leans over to take a better look at the machine, her long red hair spilling out from beneath her hood like a waterfall.

“Woah-- careful there.” Peter walks between her and the machine. As she straightens up he tucks her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering a little too long.

“Ahem.. I just-- you don’t want your hair getting stuck in there.” He gestures towards the machine, and at this point he is almost as red as her hair.

“My _hero_.” She boomed teasingly while dramatically fanning herself with her hand. She starts walking ahead of him into the next lab, knowing he isn’t far behind.

“I know it’s kind of weird… But I find these little buggers fascinating.” She claims as she taps onto a glass tank occupied with a few different species of spiders.

“They’re kind of creepy…” He admits.

“No! They’re super interesting. Did you know males risk being eaten by their female mates? Females are typically larger and a hungry female may consume any invertebrate that comes along.” She remembers doing a report on this last year. She hasn’t talked about this kind of thing to anybody before. Why is it she could literally talk about anything, even spiders with him?

“I just think… It’s cool.” She adds timidly, seeing him looking at her.

“ _Now_ who’s the nerd?” Peter teases, making MJ chortle loudly and their professor scold them from the front of the group.

One of the scientists, an old man with an even older cloak that clearly hasn’t been white in a long time, is explaining why they use spiders here. Cross-species genetics, apparently, though what exactly that means MJ doesn’t even pretend to understand. He lectures what each spider is and what it does and all of the other idiosyncrasies no one, not even their own teacher, seems to be interested in.

Using the school paper as an excuse, Peter starts walking around taking pictures. He’s not really part of the staff, he only freelances every now and then when a photo is sorely needed; the paper doesn’t have enough funds to pay for them in every issue. But that doesn’t stop him capturing photos of the machines, the students, the workers and even of the nasty little spiders through the glass. MJ can tell her's pretty passionate about it, and he hangs around after everyone else has dispersed to get some wide angle shots. MJ doesn’t want to be in the way, so she keeps up with the rest of her class.

They’re a few floors up in the military research wing when MJ notices that Peter didn’t go up with them. He has actually been gone for awhile now. She wants to go look for him, but if those security guards at the entrance are anything to go by, she’d be in big trouble if she was found wandering all by herself.

“I was hoping I’d bump into you again.”

MJ isn’t aware that the statement was directed at her, but when she turns to see the tall boy in front of her, she stops walking with the group.

“However, you are in a less compromising state than before,” he adds.

“Harry.”

She nearly loses her footing when she catches his eye. When they saw each other at the party, compromising as her state may have been, she was in her element. She knew how to navigate the interactions, how to come out on top of every conversation. But here? It’s like she even forgot how to speak.

Harry somehow looks taller in here, more intimidating. His hair slicker, his posture straighter, his feet stomping the ground with a certainty that would exist in a man twice his age. It’s as if every inch of this building is a part of his DNA, intrinsically entwined and impossible to unweave.

“So. What do you think?” He asks while raising his arms, gesturing to the building.

“It’s something else, that’s for sure.” She says in awe, looking up at the high ceiling of the room.

A very important man in a black suit and black sunglasses comes towards them; his expression looking very urgent.

“Mr. Osborn, your father would like to speak with you.” The man says.

“Yeah, and he couldn’t have come and gotten me himself, could he…” Harry says, not really to anyone in particular.

“It seems our encounters always end up getting cut short. I really hope I get to see you for a longer period of time eventually, MJ.” Before she can answer him, he is on his way to the nearest elevator with the important looking man.

* * *

It’s almost time to leave when Peter catches up with the group again. He looks significantly less cheerful than before. Almost like he’s going to be sick any second.

“You okay, there, Tiger?” MJ asks, looking worried. “You look pale as a ghost. You should sit down.” She fusses over him until she catches herself, mentally smacking her own forehead. How obvious is she sometimes? She’s never been the fussing-over type of person before. Seriously, what is the matter with her around this boy? She steps back a little hoping Peter didn’t notice.

“No, yeah, I--I’m fine Mary Jane, really. Just a bit... a bit... nauseous. It was probably something that I ate,” he barely manages to get out. “I think I’m gonna head home early, but don’t worry about me.”

“Are you-- Are you sure?” she asks, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. Was it something she said?

“Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.” He rushes to the nearest exit.

A sinking feeling in MJ’s stomach suddenly overwhelms her.

* * *

Peter doesn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after that. MJ hasn’t seen him around the neighbourhood either. Whenever she looks into his window (which she would never admit to, but it’s a few times a day) she’s greeted with nothing but his closed curtains. Despite the urge, she doesn’t think they’re close enough for her to go knock on his door asking his aunt and uncle about him.

So she worries and can barely focus on anything she’s doing at school. Going into the wrong classrooms, forgetting the code to her locker, bumping into people left and right. She’s so exasperated when it happens for the fourth time in a row that she stops and takes a deep breath, willing herself to get it together.

On the third day of Peter not showing up to school she decides she can’t take it anymore. It’s not like he owed her an explanation by any means, but she felt this odd protective feeling over him. Plus, something about this whole situation didn’t feel right to her. So she decides she’ll march on over to his house after school, even if it went against all the rules she has created for herself. She’ll come up with an excuse to go over there, she’s always been good at them.

They have a few classes together, so she reasons that it’s her responsibility to keep him from flunking them. It was a stupid thought, and she’s well aware of it given that he’s the smartest person she’s ever met, but sometimes the brain can suspend disbelief for a little while if one tried hard enough. MJ make notes of what was said in class and what assignments need to be handed in and what homework needs to be done. She will go to his house and personally make sure he gets all of this very important information.

* * *

_Ding Dong._

MJ looks down at her banged up converse runners suddenly unsure of this. She’s almost ready to turn around and head back home when the sweetest looking lady answers the door, who she assumes is his aunt.

“You must be Mary Jane Watson! I’ve heard a lot about you, dear.”

MJ pauses for a moment and wonders what she means by that. Did Peter talk about her?

“Yep, that’s me. I-- uhh-- thought since Peter has been away I would drop off his homework. You know, since I just live next door and all.”

“Oh, how very thoughtful of you! Would you like to give it to me? Or I can call Peter down.”

Shit. _Shit shit shit._ She forgot the homework! The sole purpose of coming over and the only thing that would keep her from looking like a stalker. _Thought that one through, didn’t you MJ._ Shit.

As if Aunt May was aware of the crisis going on in MJ’s head, she added, “Actually, why don’t you just stay for dinner, dear? We would love to have you, Peter so rarely has friends over.”

“Oh, thank you, but I wouldn’t want to impose--”

“Aunt May, who is it?” She can hear Peter from inside the house.

“It’s Mary Jane, the beautiful girl from next door! I’ve invited her to join us for dinner.”

“What?!” Peter blurts. She can hear the fumbled thumps of footsteps running up the stairs of their house.

 _Ouch_. She doesn’t know exactly what she did to warrant Peter’s disinterest in her all of a sudden and it stings a little. If he doesn’t want her around then MJ isn’t going to be some pathetic girl standing at his doorstep.

“No, thank you, really, but I should--”

“Nonsense, dear. We are having Peter’s favourite. My homemade meatloaf!” And with that said, she opens the door wide open, waiting for MJ to enter.

MJ has a feeling that, despite looking like a fairy godmother from children’s fairy tale stories, Aunt May usually gets her way and that she’s a very determined woman. She can definitely respect it. Not wanting to offend the sweet woman, she strides her way in.

“Peter is up in his room, dear, second door on the left. Go right on up, you can hand him his homework and I’ll get started on the food!”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Parker.”

“Oh, please, do call me May.”

MJ smiles and nods, making her way to the carpeted staircase.

The layout of their house is identical to hers. With that said, the similarities end there. She passes a large sofa with a hand knitted blanket draped over top, potted plants on both sides. There’s a big, comfy-looking armchair in front of the TV that she assumes belongs to Peter’s uncle. There are pictures scattered everywhere she can see; on the coffee table, the mantle, in photo albums kept out for everyone to see. As she walks slowly up the steps, she looks to the wall and sees Peter’s school photos at every age. She smiles when she notices a particularly nerdy looking one with him in braces-- yet he still looked more adorable than ever. They seem to be the type of family that loves each other deeply and makes sure to say it and show it as often as possible. She wonders what that’s like, to have a normal, loving family. It makes her stomach churn in all sorts of displeasing ways, so she shoves the thought in the back of her mind she’s learned to ignore.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, MJ pauses at the door. A poster of a rocketship is plastered over it as neatly as if it had been hung that very day.

 _He doesn’t want you here._ But it’s a little too late to back out now, might as well get this over with. She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

As she opens the door she immediately starts to defend herself.

“I-- I came to give you your homework, but I totally spaced out so I forgot--”

 _Woah._ She stops in her tracks, her words dispersing into thin air. Peter definitely doesn’t look sick anymore. Mind you, the few times that they have hung out he _was_ wearing a hoodie, so it’s not like she could see much. But now he’s just in a regular black T-shirt and she can see his physique very well-- almost too well. And let’s just say he isn’t as gangly as she had once suspected.

_Stop. Staring._

“My homework?” Peter inquires from his bed. He’s rummaging through his backpack, not really paying attention.

She gets distracted looking around his room; it’s built exactly like hers, but it’s almost as if they exist on different universes. Peter has a comfortable bed with about half a dozen pillows strewn all over it. There are race car bed sheets to match the wallpaper and posters of bands and other things she doesn’t recognize hung up on the walls. She laughs to herself as there are clothes and books scattered all over the floor; he’s just as messy as she is. On his desk there’s a laptop and some unrecognizable trinkets she assumes are some type of experiment of Peter’s. It’s a place she wouldn’t mind hanging out in.

“I just noticed you weren’t in class for a few days, so I thought--”

“I had my uncle pick it up for me yesterday, actually.” He replies a little too quickly.

“Oh.”

Unlike the other night, the silence that follows feels weird. MJ gets this homesick feeling, longing for the complete peaceful quiet they once shared on the rooftop not too far away from where she’s standing right now. It’s making her a little more upset than she should be; Peter Parker owes her nothing.

“ _Well_ , if you have it all taken care of, I’ll be on my way,” She snaps angrily. It’s a little harsh, MJ realizes, but she doesn’t know what has come over her. She turns around on her heel, ready to leave through the door when he stops her.

“Mary Jane, wait!”

She hovers in the doorway, picking at the sleeve of her jacket. Why is she waiting? Just leave.

Her feet don’t budge.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird-- No, wait. I know I have. I’m sorry for acting weird, Mary Jane. I just haven’t been feeling… Myself. You don’t deserve that, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’d really like it if you could stay for dinner. Please.”

MJ was all too familiar with boy’s excuses, she could smell them from a mile away. _Oh, MJ I’m so sorry for being late, I had to run an errand for my mom. What do you mean who is she? She’s just my cousin!_ Etc.

But there’s a sort of pure quality to Peter that she can’t ignore. She knows his apology is genuine.

“I _do_ love meatloaf…” MJ admits softly.

“I would be careful saying that if I were you… You haven’t tried my Aunt May’s meatloaf yet.” The face he makes is pure disgust, and MJ can’t help but snort.

“Come here, I have something to show you.” Peter says as he starts to look through his backpack again.

MJ walks over towards his bed, skeptical whether to sit next to him, but ends up doing so anyways.

He finally finds what he is looking for. It looks like a piece of paper, and he holds it protectively to his chest.

“Before I show you, you have to promise you won’t think I’m a creep; I took this the other day and well, it just turned out really great.” A huge smile spreads across his face and this piques MJ’s interest.

She raises a hand and places the other on her heart. “I swear it.”

He hands her what turns out to be a picture. A photograph, to be more exact. A photograph of MJ. This was some time during their visit to Oscorp, but she doesn’t remember Peter taking her photo.

She examines it, noticing she’s completely oblivious in the picture. She’s immensely interested in whatever she appears to be looking at. She can tell her eyes were almost sparkling in the photo and was so engulfed in whatever it was that she was doing. She feels her throat constrict a little and it gets a bit harder to breathe. When she looks up she sees Peter looking at her so expectantly, like he wants her to like his work but is afraid she isn’t going to. MJ has to look away for a second because his gaze is so intense.

“Wow, Peter, this is beautiful,” she finally says, meeting his eyes again.

“Really?”

“Really,” she reassures him and suddenly the air is too heavy around them. She needs change the mood. Her greatest defense at letting people in: sarcasm and self deprecation.

“I mean, I can tell the amount of skill involved because I don’t look that terrible!” She half jokes, half tells the truth.

At first he laughs, but when she doesn’t join him, the look on his face in incredulous.

“ _Come on,_ Mary Jane, you can’t be serious.”

MJ has always thought very little of herself. Never as pretty, never as smart, never as interesting as the other girls. It is in the validation of other boys where she can feel better about herself, but she was still caught off guard by how quick Peter was to tell her how wrong she was.

“You’re kind of talented, you know that, Tiger? Almost in every avenue, too. Quite irritating, actually.” She bumps her shoulder against his arm, feeling just how muscular he actually is and he gives a small smile.

The room is quiet and they can hear the sound of keys jingling and footsteps enter downstairs.

“That must be my uncle Ben. Follow me, I’ll introduce you.”

MJ notices something different about Peter. He’s a lot more graceful than he was a few days ago. As he stands up off the bed it’s in such a fluid like transition she starts to feel a little less graceful herself.

They make their way into the kitchen, where Ben is greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek.

“And who is this lovely young lady?” he says, offering MJ a big, warm grin.

“Uncle Ben, this is Mary Jane, she lives next door. Mary Jane, my uncle Ben.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” She walks towards him to shake his hand. His grip is firm but welcoming.

“Oh, no, please, call me Ben. I trust you’ll be staying for dinner?”

“Yes, Mrs. Parker-- I mean, May invited me to. If there’s anything I can help with I would be happy to.” She looks towards May, who appreciatively shakes her head dismissing her.

“Good, we like our table to be full; full of food and full of people,” Ben says leading them to the dining room. “Just try not to choke on the meatloaf.”

May comes over and whacks Ben with her dish rag, making everyone laugh, and the atmosphere is friendly and comfortable.

“We’re just about ready with supper! Unless Ben here decides he can make something better,” May teases.

Ben raises his hands in fake-surrender. The two of them wander off into the kitchen to bring supper out.

Peter leans over towards MJ’s ear. “I am so, so sorry about them,” he jokes.

“They’re sweet!” She whispers.

Just as MJ heads to the table to take her seat, she accidentally knocks down a vase filled with flowers on her way. Peter, who wasn’t that far behind her, extends his arm quickly to catch it before it can even hit the ground; almost as if he knew that was about to happen. MJ stares at him in shock, wondering how anyone’s reflexes can be that quick. As she’s about to make a comment, May emerges with the meatloaf and ushers them all to the dining room.

Dinner is filled with pleasant conversation. Ben and May inquire about MJ’s life, her hobbies, and what she intends to do after she graduates. MJ tells them that she longs to be a journalist or a reporter and go to Empire State, and Peter even gives them an issue of the school paper for them to read. May's feedback is sweet and encouraging, but there's something about what Ben says that sticks with her. She doesn't know if it's because she's not used to having a father figure, or anyone's support for that matter, but it gives her a feeling she hasn't quite felt before. Like she didn't want to let this man down. 

"You need to pursue this, MJ. This is your calling. Once school's over, you need to at least intern at the Daily Bugle if you can stomach that cigar chomping moustache of a boss. You have a gift and you need to share it, because there's not that many genuine people out there, and I believe you can change that. The way you write, people will trust you. They will look to you, and I believe you can use that to for good." Ben says, staring at MJ. 

She looks towards Peter and he's looking down at his napkin, not sure whether he's embarrassed or letting it sink in just like she was. She tries to fight back tears and thanks Ben politely.

After that, they take turns telling embarrassing stories from Peter’s childhood and he fake-whines, saying he’ll never bring any friends over again, and MJ feels warm and happy.

Glancing over towards the clock above Peter, she notices that it’s already 9 PM.

“Wow, that was absolutely delicious, but I should be making my way back home now. Did you need any help with the dishes?” She doesn’t want to outstay her welcome. Their generosity was more than she could ask for.

“No, no! Not at all. It was an absolute pleasure to have you, dear. Do come back any time,” May says, and it’s obvious by her tone that she actually means it.

She gives May a big hug and shakes Ben’s hand, thanking him again, stating it was a pleasure to meet them before Peter escorts her to the door. He leans over her and at first she is so consumed by his scent, cedar and a hint of soap, that she doesn’t realize he’s grabbing his coat.

“Oh, I literally live 30 seconds away, there’s no need to walk me home.”

He just stares at her with a smug look as he buttons up his jacket.

“After you,” he says opening the door. MJ wraps her scarf around the bottom half of her face trying to hide the blush that inevitably is coming to her cheeks. The downside of being so pale is every emotion can be plastered on your face. Literally.

They walk towards her gate in silence; that same comfortable silence from the rooftop.

“Well, thanks for walking me home. I know how _far_ that was for you.” MJ grins as they get to her door.

“What are friendly neighbours for?” He teases back.

There’s a short pause while they look at each other. This night has gone particularly better than MJ anticipated.

“Will I see you at school any time soon, _slacker_?” MJ asks, hopeful.

“Yeah definitely. I’m starting to feel a lot better now.”

There was something in the way he said ‘now’ that made MJ turn around to unlock her door; she couldn’t bear to face him for the second time tonight. She’s half way through the door, getting ready to close it when she hears Peter call out to her.

“Hey, Mary Jane. Thanks for checking up on me. I really appreciate it.”

She smiles, shy.

“Goodnight, Tiger.”

* * *

In the last few weeks, there’s been something noticeably different with MJ. She gets out of bed a little faster, there’s more spring in her step, and she even finds herself smiling more often.

It feels nice having someone she enjoys to sit next by in the cafeteria during lunch. Someone she can just talk to with no judgement about anything and everything, unlike when she used to sit with Flash and his gang of football players and cheerleaders.

MJ goes to find Peter after she picks up her tray of food (the usual apple, a sandwich, and a juice box, which Peter mercilessly teases her about because, according to him, that’s one serving of fruit too many and not enough of fries). Peter is sitting at the table closest to the window and she welcomes that familiar good-nervous feeling she’s been getting lately. It’s almost as if she has tunnel vision; Peter is the destination, everything else around the edges are blurred and unimportant. So when a large body steps in front of her, it catches her so off guard that she nearly bumps into them.

“Hey, MJ. I thought you’d maybe want to have lunch with me today.”

It’s Harry. How does he just appear out of nowhere like that?

“Oh. Well, I’m sitting with Peter, but you’re welcome to join us. If you want to,” she hesitates a bit, and she could swear she saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face, but he covers it quickly with a smile.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he adds.

They make their way to where Peter’s sitting and he waves MJ over. When he catches her eye, his expression changes a little when he notices Harry following.

“Hey, Tiger, this is Harry. He’s gonna join us for lunch,” she says a little self consciously, hoping he’ll be okay with it.

Harry extends his hand toward Peter who grabs it too quickly, but his smile is genuine enough that Harry reciprocates easily.

“You don’t have to call me Tiger. I’m Peter.” He says to Harry.

“I know who you are. You’re the whiz kid who knows, like, everything. You’re some kind of prodigy, dude,” Harry says politely. MJ sits across from Peter and Harry sits right next to MJ.

They all get along really well and spend the entire lunch goofing off and getting to know each other better. MJ is starting to get suspicious of how good things are in the friends department lately, when it’s never quite been like this before. It’s not that she’s never had friends, but the kind of connection she feels with Peter, and now a possible blossoming one with Harry, isn’t something that comes along every day. She decides not to question it, as she’s feeling herself for the first time in a long while.

* * *

The three of them hang out together during almost all of their free time now. So much so that a schedule has developed. On Tuesday nights they go to Peter’s to study. A lot of the times it just turns into Peter and Harry geeking out over the newest gadget created by Oscorp, but MJ doesn’t mind. They could be doing chores, for all she cares, and she’d have fun with the both of them.

Aunt May cherishes every opportunity she can get to fuss around them. It’s mostly playfully mocking them for not eating enough (and by ‘enough’ she means as much as an entire army would). She seems to be very happy Peter is spending time with friends. Ben usually reads over some of MJ's articles and gives her encouragement and praise. It's usually the highlight of her night.

Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent walking around New York getting stuffed on different greasy, spectacularly unhealthy street foods. The majority of their time there is daydreaming about where they’ll live in the city after graduation, what kind of apartments they’ll have and whose place will be the messiest without adult supervision.

Fridays are movie nights. Since Harry is the one with the big bucks and the huge flat screen TV, that’s where they camp. More often than not they stay the night, doing a double-feature, or an impromptu slumber party.

It’s around 7 PM. when MJ gets to the Osborn household. She’s usually the late one anyway, and today she stopped on the way to buy some snacks. She can’t stand the kind of thing Harry tries to pass as teenage-movie-night appropriate. If she has to hear about _fois gras_ or any other suspicious poultry dish with questionable fruit sauces served in tiny portions she’s going to snap. So it’s a bit odd when Harry tells her Peter hasn’t shown up yet.

MJ frowns, a bad feeling creeping up on her. “Weird. Did he say he had other plans tonight, or...?”

“Not that I know of…”

They both check their mobile phones simultaneously and there’s no word.

“I’m sure he’s alright.” Harry reassures MJ, feeling her worry seep from her pores. “Actually, now that it’s just the two of us, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he says, but it’s as if he’s talking to a wall. MJ can’t pay attention to anything at this point, her uneasiness deafening her. _Where the hell is Peter?_

“MJ?”

“Wha--? Oh. Sorry, Harry. Don’t you think we should go check on Peter?” She’s starting to work herself up and she can feel herself about to panic. “I mean, he doesn’t just ditch us like that, it’s not like him.” Her mind is working about a million miles per second, thinking of everything that could’ve happened to Peter on his way there to make him a no-show.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I’m sure he just got caught up doing one of his weird experiments and completely spaced out,” Harry comforts her, but it does little to subdue the worry. She needs to get home right now.

Harry sends for a car to take them there and has to lead MJ through the maze of his family’s extravagant apartment by the hand, she’s so shaken. She knows she’s probably overreacting and that freaking out is not going to do anyone any good, but she can’t help the feeling that something is _very_ wrong.

It seems like it takes twice as long getting back. Was it just MJ, or did they hit every red light imaginable? It’s getting harder and harder trying to block the gruesome thoughts she has with every passing minute.

Finally, they arrive. As they pull up next to MJ’s house, her predictions don’t seem that far off anymore. There are two cop cars in front of Peter’s house, and MJ can feel Harry tense up next to her.

“Text me as soon as you find out what’s going on,” Harry says urgently.

MJ nods and opens the car door, taking long strides into her front yard.

Endless minutes pass, and the vehicle behind her is long gone, yet MJ is still standing there as if time is standing still. On one hand she is so worried she could faint. On the other, it’s not her place to go barging in demanding answers. So she waits out there for what feels like eternity until she can’t look at the flashing red and blue lights on the cop cars any longer.

Not allowing herself to cry, she races into her house and up the steps to her room, slamming the door behind her. After pacing back and forth in her room like a maniac for far too long, she decides to go up to the rooftop to see if the crisp air calms her down a little.

After struggling a little to get up there, spent from the adrenaline and having paced her feet raw, she sits down on the roof. She hears some sniffling and she realizes she’s not alone. Turning to face the source of the sound, she sees it’s Peter. She can tell he’s been sitting there for a long time, and that he’s been crying. _Shit._

“Oh God, Peter, what happened? You didn’t show up at Harry’s tonight and when I came back there were cop cars in front of your house! I didn’t know if I should go in or not--” MJ blurts out, trying to scan Peter’s body for any injuries. He clears his throat and his voice is deep, and it chills her to the bone.

“It’s my uncle,” he says, his body and voice trembling. “He’s dead.”

It feels like the ground has opened up beneath her and MJ is falling through a ceaseless abyss. Uncle Ben is dead. The sweet, loving man who welcomed her into his house like a daughter, who encouraged her to follower her dreams and loved to kid around with everyone, is dead. She sits in silence as Peter explains that it was a carjacking, and that one of the guys freaked out and shot Ben even after he handed them the keys.

“It’s all my fault. _All my fault._ ” She can hear Peter say under his breath, not really talking to her.

“It’s not, Peter. Don’t think that way,” but he isn’t paying attention to her anymore. How on earth could this be his fault? How does Peter have anything to do with this? Grief does strange things to people.

She tries comforting him as best she can, but what could she possibly say in a moment like this? She remembers when her own mother died, the sympathies from other people tasting sour in her mouth. Nothing they said could keep her warm at night when she would wake up screaming from nightmares. So she just stays there, silently letting him know he can count on her.

“I gotta.. I gotta go. I can’t--” Peter spews. He inches his way to the ledge of the roof and hops down. It isn’t an _extremely_ high roof, per se, but it isn’t that low either… MJ watches as he runs off into the night.

An unwelcome foreboding feeling creeps up on her. Things are going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

It has been a few months since the death of Ben, and things have, for the most part, settled down. MJ goes to school and still writes for the paper, she meets up at her’s and the boy’s designated table in the cafeteria every day, but only Harry seems to show up nowadays.

She sees Peter rushing to classes occasionally, always looking flustered. He hardly pays attention in class, sometimes even leaving in the middle of it. He looks so tired.

MJ has tried asking him about it once or twice, or a dozen times; where he goes when he gets up and leaves all of a sudden. In the middle of conversations, bailing on plans, class, not returning MJ’s texts, but it makes him so flustered and he comes up with the most ridiculous lies that she decides not to pry anymore. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to share.

So, she’s been spending a lot more time with Harry. They hang out at his house, playing vintage board games and talk for hours of what it’s going to be like living in the city. He even brought her to see a play just off Broadway the other day. Letting her go on _and on_ about how great the actors were, the details of the sets, even the beauty of the theater. Harry has been really sweet to her, and MJ would be perfectly content, if it weren’t for her constantly worrying about Peter.

She also sees May from time to time. They chat after she gets home from school if May’s sitting on the porch. MJ feels so disconcerted for her after all that she’s been through. It’s bad enough to lose a husband so abruptly and violently like that, but to have to suddenly support a household on her own hardly seems fair. Not to mention MJ has noticed Peter is barely home lately from the light in his room rarely being on, so May has to deal with an absent teenager as well. It’s too much for someone, so MJ designates a few times a week to go over and check up on her.

She decides to stop off over at May’s Friday afternoon to have her read her latest article she’s written for the Midtown Paper. There’s a masked vigilante going around New York lately. He seems to only be after a few petty criminals. MJ wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Ever since the kind and unforgettable words May and... _Ben_ gave her that one night, there’s a sort of pride she has about writing now. Maybe she could be a successful journalist if she applied herself and get herself into Empire State University. Paying to get in, however, was a different story.

She walks up the steps with her hands in the pockets of her jeans when May waves at her with a kind smile.

“What’s up, May-day?” MJ says after popping a huge bubble of her gum.

“Hello, dear. What do you have for me today to read?” May asks lightly, looking exhausted.

“How about the fresh new scoop on a mysterious new figure that’s been going around New York beating up bad guys?” She knew the school paper, especially Midtown’s, wasn’t anything professional, but she was a good writer and she knew how to get information from the right people. MJ would call up any eye witnesses that were published at the Daily Bugle and contact them herself. Inevitably, she would get a few hang ups, some woman even shouted some colourful language at her, but for the majority it would seem that people loved talking about this masked vigilante.

MJ rifles through her backpack getting out the article. She always encourages May to proofread them and let her know if she needs to add or remove anything. Instead, May normally just leaves a sticky note saying how proud of MJ she is, how this is her best work yet.

“It’s not done yet,” MJ states while finding the paper. “But I think I’m onto something. Nobody has really pieced it together yet, but I looked up the photos of all these dudes and they all look strangely familiar. The criminals this vigilante is after. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

May smiles, humouring MJ’s sleuth skills. “I can’t wait to read it.” MJ gives May a huge hug.

“I’ll see you tomorrow to see what you have to say ‘bout it.” She zips her backpack back up, and just as MJ’s getting up to leave, Peter bursts through the front door. He’s holding hands with a girl.

“Peter! I thought you were going to be out late,” May questions as gets up, approaching the girl and gives her a warm hug.

“I-I was,” Peter stammers, avoiding looking at MJ at all costs, “but, uhm-- it looks like it’s gonna rain and we didn’t want to be out on the street.” He glimpses as MJ, and when he sees her confused expression, looks away immediately.

MJ takes a look at the girl when she isn’t looking. She has smooth, golden hair that’s neatly pulled back by a black head band. She has small, soft features and MJ feels embarrassed by thinking she reminds her of an angel. MJ starts to hunch, feeling too gangly all of a sudden compared to this petite girl standing in front of her. MJ hated comparing herself to other girls, but she couldn’t help it. Especially considering this girl looks like she doesn’t need to worry about wearing foundation, ever. MJ folds her arms over her too small chest she notices, suddenly very aware of her flaws.

Out of nowhere, MJ starts to feel incredibly jealous. And it’s not because of the reasons she was thinking a second ago. It’s because this girl is still holding hands with Peter.

_Get a grip, MJ._

“Hi,” the girl waves shyly. “I’m Gwen. You’re MJ, right?I really like the stuff you write for the paper,” she smiles.

MJ doesn’t know what to say or what to do. It’s just too much information to process at once, she feels blindsided and wants to get out of there. Why is she feeling so jealous? It’s just… _Peter_?

Almost as if she senses MJ’s inner turmoil, May softley places a hand on MJ’s back. It’s reassuring, and she snaps out of the green monster’s grip it has on her for a brief second to answer.

“Yeah, I mean-- Thank you. I’ve seen you around. You help Flash study, right?” She finally manages to respond. Despite having at least five inches on this girl, MJ suddenly feels small. How is it she is complimenting MJ on the stupid paper nobody pays attention to, when _she’s_ this sort of genius. No wonder Peter likes her.

“Flash? Yeah! He’s showing such great progress. It’s really nice-- It’s really nice to see.” Despite the stammer, Gwen sounds as lovely and polite as ever. MJ can’t stand her irrational reaction towards this girl. She has been nothing but sweet.

It looks like Peter hasn’t even breathed the whole time the girls were talking. MJ tries to look at him for some sort of explanation to all of this, but he’s doing a great job at pretending she’s not there. She can feel anger building up inside of her, not quite sure who it’s aimed at, and decides to just go home.

“It was nice to meet you, Gwen. I’ll see you around school. Later May.” She doesn’t even bother to address Peter.

She flips up the hood of her jacket, a defense mechanism of hers, and walks down the steps towards her house. Each step getting quicker and quicker, not getting far enough from Peter Parker and this new girl.

Up in her room, her mind is racing. Is that why Peter hasn’t been talking to her? Why he’s always going off somewhere blowing everyone off? And why didn’t he tell her he met someone? There are so many questions, none to which she has any answers and she feels defeated.

She was sure she and Peter had hit it off. How many nights had they spent on the rooftop where they first met, laughing, talking. Not talking. That comfortable silence that she hasn’t shared with anyone else but him. Was it all in her head, some sort of delusion she thrust upon Peter?

And the girl. She’s seen her around school, of course, everyone knows who Gwen Stacy is. She’s one of the smartest people in the school; she’s part of the debate team, she hangs out with the popular kids, and MJ is pretty sure she even won a beauty pageant before. How did Peter even meet someone like her?

Unable to stop herself, MJ grabs her laptop and types Gwen Stacy’s name into Google. A link to her Facebook profile shows up, which she clicks on, almost immediately regretting it afterwards. Her profile picture is of her and Peter, who’s making a funny face while she pretends to bite his cheek. It’s like there’s ice in MJ’s stomach. She notices Gwen’s in the honour roll, and that she got an early acceptance into ESU with a scholarship. She clicks on another link, and it goes to a science publication listing young students from all over the country who excel in their field of choice, and Gwen is listed as one of the most promising new names in molecular medicine. _Jesus_. She’s not _just_ smart, this girl is a genius. And beautiful, and sweet. How could MJ think she’d ever had a chance?

A _chance_? When did MJ ever want a chance with Peter…?

There’s a knock at the front door and she slams her laptop shut, as if she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.

Her father is out at the pub tonight; it’s the weekend so she has no choice but to go down herself. She suddenly feels the urge to cry, and it makes her angry at herself, not allowing her to be so weak.

She throws on her baggy Midtown Tigers sweatshirt and races down the stairs. MJ takes in a deep breath before opening the door.

It’s Harry.

“Hey, MJ! Ready for our movie night?”

Harry. Tall, reliable, good looking Harry. MJ stares at him, not even listening to what he is saying. Harry has been by her side lately, and makes an effort to spend time with MJ. He trusts her and he worries about her and takes care of her and doesn’t ditch her in favour of other people. _Harry_.

There are far too many emotions running into MJ’s head, and before she can even register what she’s doing, her arms are flung over his shoulders, her mouth smashing into his. She can feel the absolute shock stiffen his body, but after a few seconds with her hands wrapped up in his hair, he grabs onto her sweatshirt, pulling her closer, giving in. She vaguely remembers how he hates when his hair is messy.

When it feels like an eternity has passed, they finally break apart from each other. MJ starts to feel guilty and looks down to her feet.

“Woah.” Harry blurts out while looking down at MJ, his arms still wrapped around her. “Not that I’m complaining… But where did that come from? You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to… I just thought that you liked…”

MJ rests her head on his chest, and for the first time in six years, cries. Not just cries, but sobs, uncontrollably.

“Hey, hey, hey? What’s going on? MJ?”

She can’t get any words through the fractious breakdown. She hides her whole face into his shirt, getting tears and mascara all over it. She thinks to herself how this shirt probably cost at least a grand.

“I can’t-- I can’t-- I don’t-- know.” She finally is able to maintain over the shaking.

Harry takes her shoulders and pries her off of him, only to wrap his long arm around her again, leading her to the couch. He sits down on the side and MJ crawls on top of the sofa, laying down, resting her head on his lap. He starts to stroke her hair which makes MJ close her eyes. With her nervous breakdown and the softness of his touch, she gets incredibly tired, and before she can will herself not to, falls into a deep sleep.

* * *

MJ can hear a knock on the door. She doesn’t want to wake from her dreamless slumber, but then she hears Harry’s voice.

“Hey, Peter.”

Peter? Why is he here…? MJ keeps her eyes closed.

“Hi, Harry. I was wondering if Mary Jane was home. I just really need to-- I just--”

“She’s sleeping right now. I can tell her you stopped by if you want.”

“I just really have to talk to her,” Peter says urgently.

“Look, Pete, MJ’s really tired right now, so you should just go and I’m sure she’ll talk to you later, okay?” MJ almost thinks she hears a hint of protectiveness in Harry’s voice.

She falls back to sleep after that.

In the morning, Harry is still there, uncomfortably propped up on her father’s armchair, deep in sleep. She’s not surprised her father didn’t make it back to the house last night, but she knows he’s going to be stumbling in any minute now. MJ walks towards Harry and runs her hand up and down his arm, gently waking him up.

“Hey, Harry, want to go get some breakfast?” She says softly, looking at his sleepy expression.

“Mmm,” he replies, which she can only assume is an agreement.

* * *

“I promise I’ll pay for a new shirt,” MJ states apologetically, staring at the mascara smudges on it across for her, the embarrassment from last night sitting low in her stomach.

Harry finishes swallowing his bite of egg before replying, “You most certainly will not. Besides, this was an old shirt anyways,” he lies. “You wanna tell me what last night was about?”

MJ looks down and starts moving her waffle around the plate with her fork, avoiding Harry’s question. She doesn’t want to think about that. It’s like she bottled up all of the emotions she’s had over the past six years and they all started spilling out all at once. No one sees her cry. She has made sure of that for so long. She doesn’t want to look stupid or weak in front of anyone, and yet here’s Harry, still looking at her like he always has. It’s a new, not entirely unwelcome feeling.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, I was just worried.” There he is again, being understanding and sweet. “So what do you want to do today?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Can we just hang out at your place? I don’t feel like going home any time soon,” MJ asks, perking up a little.

“Mi casa es su casa.”

They spend the whole day together at the Osborn apartment. They started to play ping pong but quit almost immediately as MJ nearly broke a window by accidentally throwing the paddle when the ball came to her. After that they cooked up some homemade pizzas, making a mess all throughout the extravagant kitchen. Now they’re just hanging out in Harry’s room, MJ looking through his CD collection.

Harry doesn’t try anything, and she’s thankful. She doesn’t know where that kiss came from and doesn’t want to be held responsible for it. Does that make her a bad person?

She does notice Harry’s lingering looks on her though, how he lets his hand graze over hers whenever they’re close enough, and it feels nice. She just doesn’t want to think about anything today.

“Really? N’Sync?” She judges lightly while picking up one of his CDs.

“My dad bought it for me long ago; he isn’t really conscious of what I’m into, clearly.” Harry says in a joking manner, however there’s a darkness there.

MJ thinks to herself that she has been over at Harry’s dozens of times, but still has never met Mr. Osborn. She remembers the important looking man coming up to Harry in the Oscorp tower, and how frustrated Harry was at the mention of his father. She can tell he’s not entirely happy now, either. MJ is all too familiar with absent fathers, and she wonders where Harry’s mother is. Maybe she’s gone like MJ’s mom is. It’s a little odd how similar their situations are, and she guesses it made sense how they found each other in the end. They could be parentless together, at least. She carries on looking throughout his collection, not wanting to prod about his father any further in fear it upsets him.

She comes across a CD by The Smiths, a band that she couldn’t help but cringe whenever Peter would blare it from his bedroom. They sounded so mopey and nothing like MJ would listen to. But it somehow made her overwhelmed with happiness whenever she heard them play. _Peter_.

Memories of early this morning come rushing back to her. Why hasn’t Harry mentioned their encounter yet? Why didn’t he let her know that Peter had been looking for her? She hopes it had just slipped his mind. She’s sure if she mentions him it’ll jog his memory.

“Blergh, The Smiths. Peter doesn’t stop playing this band,” She nudges.

“He actually gave me that CD, haven’t listened to it yet.” He looks away from her.

She wonders why he’s suddenly avoiding her as if she were Medusa.

Sensing that he won’t mention what happened earlier, she drops the subject and Harry seems to perk up considerably, and the rest of the day goes by easy.

* * *

Harry has a car drop MJ off at her house, and when she gets home, all of the feelings from the night before come rushing back. She tries to make sense of everything that happened, why she didn't see it coming. How Peter could go from being her closest friend where she felt nothing could come between them, to being completely ignored and finding out that he’s going out with a girl they didn’t even know before. There has to be a reason, Peter wouldn’t just do that to her.

It actually starts to make her irrationally furious in spite of herself. That he made her let her guard down so much only to disappoint her, and she decides she won't let him affect her like this anymore. She’s used to blocking people out.

At this point she is conjuring up all the willpower in herself to keep from screaming in her pillow, which her face is pressed into at the moment.

"Mary Jane."

It's Peter's voice, muffled. He's calling her from outside, on their shared rooftop.

"Mary Jane, please, let me explain."

She contemplates ignoring him, just shutting the light off and going to bed. Didn’t she just tell herself she wasn’t going to let Peter Parker in anymore? Then she thinks about the silly boy with his camera and gadgets and race car sheets. The boy who just lost his father figure. He has been going through a lot, so maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Walking towards the window, pausing, going back to sitting on her bed and repeat, doing this at least three times until she finally opens her window. It pains her immediately as soon as she sees how distraught Peter looks; his big puppy eyes on her, begging for forgiveness.

"I know what you're thinking, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Gwen, about us, I'm sorry I haven't been around as much. Things just have been so crazy and I've been having a hard time keeping up with everything," he tells her earnestly, and MJ just listens, an unreadable look on her face. "I never meant for you to find out about it like that."

“Looks like you didn’t mean for me to find out at all,” she says with an unimpressed tone, surprising herself at how malicious the words are, making Peter look down.

There’s a silence and it’s nothing like the ones they used to share; this one seems to prickle the skin, uncomfortable like a new sweater that makes you itch.

Finally he speaks up. “I haven’t been myself since-- well for a long time now. And then my uncle--” Peter’s voice sounds shaky and MJ feels awful. “I just. She was there. In the lab one day after school and it just--”

The thought of another girl consoling Peter makes MJ’s mind swim with so many emotions she doesn’t know how to react. She feels guilty because she has no right to feel this way, but she does. She feels angry because Peter could have confided in her. She feels stupid, unlike Gwen. Smart Gwen who was in the lab. Maybe that’s why Peter dropped her like a fly. Because she wasn’t _smart_ enough. All of the times her father and other boys told MJ she wasn’t good enough is so bottled up inside of her she feels like she’s going to explode.

MJ always got teased for having a temper because she had red hair, but nothing she could do would suppress the absolute fury she was feeling right now.

“Well, thank God she was there for you, then. I know I would’ve been too _stupid_ to handle the situation. I’m not on the honour roll or anything. I don’t have a fancy scholarship lined up to ES and....” Shit. It’s obvious that she researched Gwen now.

Peter looks so hurt and MJ’s stomach sinks.

“Mary Jane, you know that is not how I feel--”

“It’s nothing I haven’t felt before...” She trails off, not really directed at him.

“It’s not like I was ignoring _you_ for her. I was ignoring everyone, Mary Jane! Everyone! I didn’t plan this, any of this. I didn’t ask for this.”

MJ senses he is talking about something completely different, but she’s too hurt to care right now.

They both hesitate in saying anything for a long time.

"Gwen really is great, you know? You’d like her."

At this point MJ can't take it anymore, she feels like Peter’s disappearing from her, and there isn’t anything she can do about it. So she just looks at him with heavy eyes, and eventually shuts the window and drawing the blinds, falling into bed and hoping for a sleep that won’t come.

* * *

MJ sees Peter and Gwen at school, and her stomach flips each time, though she won’t show it, or fully admit it to herself. MJ and Peter haven’t spoken since that night on the roof and she tries not to think about it, purposefully avoiding looking out of her bedroom window into his. Graduation can’t come soon enough.

She’s been trying to choose a dress to wear for prom with no luck. She wants something that’ll make her look amazing for everyone’s last good look at her before she gets out of this place. MJ and Harry have been scouring every possible shop they can think of for something just right. He had offered to pay for a custom made tailored gown for her, which she immediately refused. She knows he means well, but sometimes she wishes he wouldn’t be so quick to throw money on everything to fix it. Especially when it comes to her.

They’re in one of the stores and MJ is trying on a few dresses and modeling them to Harry, which he’s more than happy to watch, when he asks her, “So, do you have a date for the prom yet?”

The truth is, she hadn’t even considered getting a date. She thought she’d just get to the party and find someone to dance and spend some time with, as she was always good at doing in these situations. But now that she thinks about it, it might be even more fun to go with Harry. They’ve been pretty much attached at the hip lately, so why not go together? The idea is sounding better by the minute.

“Why, are you going to ask me to go with you?” She says, looking up at him with a smile in a lavender-coloured gown.

“Would you say yes if I was?” He replies, and if she didn’t know better, she’d say Harry is a little nervous.

“Well, I guess I can make the effort if you really want me to…” she grins, and when Harry grins back, she knows it’ll be a night to remember. If only she could find what to wear.

She turns back to head into the changing room. MJ has tried on about nine dresses now, and she’s getting discouraged.

“Nothing is _working_. Maybe I should just go to this thing naked,” she jokes.

“As interesting as that may be, I think I’ve found one that suits you.”

She opens the dressing room curtain and she’s in a huge, poofy pink dress looking rather irritated. “If that one doesn’t work I swear I’ll do it,” She threatens, grabbing the fabric from Harry.

She shimmies the cupcake of a gown off of her too-slender of a body (that’s what she always thought of it, anyway), and tries it on.

Zipping up the zipper on the side, MJ faces the mirror. She’s kind of taken back by how stunning the dress is, and how grown up she looks in it. It’s floor length and form-fitting. The dress is a black silky fabric and strapless. There’s the most delicate lace that wraps around the torso of it. MJ finds the black fitting, as she will be saying goodbye to her life here.

Harry was right, it does suit her. MJ couldn’t picture herself in a fluffy pastel-coloured dress; it would feel like trying too hard to look like something she’s not. This is simple but elegant.

“You okay in there?” Harry calls out.

MJ, not realizing how silent she got, lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah. I think we’ve found the one.”

“Let me see!”

“No way, you’re gonna have to wait.”

* * *

It’s a few hours before Harry will be picking up MJ for the prom, and she can’t seem to sit still. Looking up at the clock, to the window, to the clock again, willing time to go by faster, she decides to start getting ready to occupy her thoughts.

Her dress has been hanging up on her bedroom door since the day she got it, and MJ went through days of planning to try and get her look just right to go with it. She wanted to be memorable so people wouldn’t forget her.

She sits in front of her vanity and gets the necessary supplies out: face products, eye makeup, false eyelashes, brushes. It was her war paint.

Tying her hair back to get her canvas ready, she takes a long look at her bare face in the mirror, noticing all of the flaws she hasn’t let anyone see ever since she discovered they could be effectively covered up. Up until that one night with Peter on the roof.

Pouring a little bit of her foundation on the right brush, she applies it all over her face, leaving the redness of her still baby-faced cheeks and freckles underneath it. With the concealer, she applies it on her dark circles from too many nights awake, thinking about her future. The blush gives a calculated flush to her face, and with every product she puts on, her confidence gets higher. Feeling a little safer, a little more like she can handle tonight.

Finishing her eyeshadow and lipstick, MJ takes one final look in the mirror, satisfied with what she sees. MJ puts on the dress and then moves on to fixing her hair. She chose to wear it down, her red locks framing her face like fire around her. As a kid, she hated her hair color, as school mates would tease her for it, and wanted to grow up to be able to dye it. Ponytails were a common hairstyle MJ chose, so she wouldn’t be able to see it during the day, but now she takes pride in it. She’s learned to love it. It makes her different, makes her stand out in a crowd and be noticed.

Harry arrives soon after she’s finished getting ready, and MJ feels butterflies in her stomach when she sees the limo parked in front of her house (clearly Harry took no short cuts with the whole Prom thing). She’s looking out the window from behind a curtain, not wanting Harry to take a peek at her just yet, and she sees him getting out of the car. He’s hesitating before walking up to her door and he almost seems… nervous?

The doorbell rings and MJ runs downstairs, nearly tripping on her long dress, and answers the door. She peeks her head between the crack.

“Close your eyes!” She demands.

“Huh?”

“Close them!”

He obeys, and as he does, she opens the door fully and smooths out her dress and brushes her hair out from her face.

Taking a deep breath, she says, “Okay, you can open them.”

He does so, and his nervousness seems to go away immediately. Now he just looks amazed, and to say MJ felt validated was an understatement. He’s standing there, with his mouth slightly open, staring at her up and down. She didn’t realize it before, but he’s holding a corsage; it’s a simple bundle of red roses that matches her hair perfectly.

He shakes his head a little, waking himself from his thoughts, and he gives her a big smile.

“This is for you.” He tells MJ, unwrapping the corsage. She extends her arm and he places it delicately around her wrist. She starts to pull her hand away as he finished, but he pulls it up to his lips and gives it a soft kiss.

“Shall we, Miss Watson?” He asks her, offering his arm out to her. She links her arm to his and gives him a nod, and they make their way to the limo.

They arrive to the party fashionably late, Harry helping MJ out of the limo that he owns. MJ wonders if the school planned the prom a day before the graduation ceremony on purpose to try and prevent the kids from drinking. The ceremony is long and dull enough _without_ the hangover.

The room is decorated with big golden lit-up stars hanging from the ceiling and hundreds of fairy lights, and the seniors have gone all out with their outfits. There is a sea of black tuxedos and suits, but a few white and other coloured ones pop in the middle of the crowd from braver boys. The girls’ dresses fill up the place like a giant rainbow, with styles varying from the most elegant to the most ludicrous ones.

MJ doesn’t waste time in pulling Harry to the dance floor, and she spins and twirls and feels free, her head intoxicated with thoughts of her tomorrows out of this place. She talks and laughs with people, exchanging stories from their four years here, and she realizes her feeling suffocated and eager to leave had nothing to do with them; it’s something deeper and more personal, and because of that she can genuinely enjoy the celebration for what it is-- a nod to what has been, and a greeting of what’s to come.

MJ tells Harry that she’s going to get them some punch. She wanders over to the lineup, a smile creeping onto her face that she cannot help. In just a few weeks she will head out into the city to go job hunting. She needs to save up some money for the dorms and ESU if she gets in. She crosses her fingers in hoping the student loans will go through, wondering if her father will let her down yet again with his bad credit. If all things go according to plan, she could be living in the city by next month.

So caught up in her thoughts of her new life that’s around the corner, she almost doesn’t realize when Gwen’s walking into the building. But as soon as she glances up, she can’t take her eyes off of the girl. Her hair is up in a delicate bun, smooth and out of her face, unlike MJ’s, which is completely down in big, loose curls. Gwen’s dress is, once again, the opposite of MJ’s: It’s a pearl colour with a sweetheart neckline. It poofs a little out at the waist, but not so much where it’s ridiculous. It ends just above her calves that show off her pretty white high heels. MJ decided to opt out of heels for a pair of black flats because she didn’t want to be taller than the whopping 5’7” she already was. She notices almost immediately that Peter isn’t with her.

Harry makes his way to where MJ is, but she doesn’t notice. She’s watching Gwen going around the room talking to people she knows, and when her and MJ’s eyes meet, the blonde offers her a smile.

Gwen starts to approach her and Harry, making MJ avert her eyes. She randomly starts to laugh towards Harry as if he did something hilarious. She doesn’t know why she did it, and by the confused look on Harry’s face, neither does he. She swigs back her punch, and can immediately tell somebody spiked it.

“MJ, Harry, you both look phenomenal.”

It would make sense for Gwen to know Harry. She’s all into science, and Harry’s dad owns one of the biggest science centers in all the country.

“Gwendolyn, you look beautiful yourself,” Harry returns.

MJ gives Gwen the biggest grin she can muster up and grabs Harry’s punch, only to down that one as well. She’s starting to feel the buzz.

“How do you two know each other?” MJ is curious.

“My father offered Gwen an internship at Oscorp and I showed her around the place during the field trip.” Harry says a matter-of-factly and Gwen nods, looking shy.

Then Harry asks the question MJ was wondering herself. “Where’s Peter?” Was it just her, or did Harry glance at MJ while asking it?

“He-- He had something to take care of,” Gwen replies, giving a polite smile. Why was she so _nice_?

A bubble of giggles escape MJ and she can’t hold them in any longer. What on _earth_ did Peter have to do? Go to the _geek_ store to get his daily dose of _nerd_? The stupidity of her thought process makes her laugh even harder. The other two look at her as if she had just escaped the looney bin.

With a slap on her knee and a deep breath finding composure, she says, “Who’s up for another punch?!” and walks towards the bowl again.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Harry says, looking at MJ. She grabs another glass.

As if MJ didn’t already know, since she’s a grade A stalker now, she asks, “So, Gwelolyn-- Gedolyn-- Gwendoyl,” it takes her a few times to get it right, “Gwendolyn, what are you gonna do after the good ol’ graduation? I bet you’re gonna go to the moon. You’re smart enough to go to the moon.” MJ pokes Gwen’s shoulder while saying so.

Gwen gives a genuine laugh. “I think I’m going to stay here for now, actually. In the meantime I’m going to study at Empire State. Then intern at Oscorp on my days off. Peter tells me you’re wanting to go to ESU as well! It would be really nice to have some familiar faces around campus.”

Can. This. Girl. Be. Any. _Nicer_.

“WE SHOULD TOTALLY BE ROOMIES,” MJ doesn’t realize she’s shouting until a teacher shushes her.

“ _We should totally be roomies,_ ” MJ covers it up with a loud whisper. Why is she even saying this? She knows nothing about the girl other than she’s perfect, and makes MJ feel inferior. Not to mention she’s dating Peter. Dumb, stupid Peter. MJ’s going to be starting a new life in New York. This means a new place to live, a job, new people in her life. Did she want Gwen Stacy in it?

Gwen looks like she’s having a good time. She’s smiling largely when she answers. “That would be really awesome, MJ. Let’s see what we can do.”

MJ definitely drank too fast, and coupled with seeing Gwen and thinking about Peter, she starts to feel a bit nauseous.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

“I’ll come with you,” Harry offers politely. A slower song starts to play and MJ sees Gwen hold her shoulder, too sweet to admit it, but from the looks of it, she thinks they’re ditching her. Suddenly MJ feels an overpowering urge to not disappoint this girl. She has done nothing to MJ but be exceptionally nice to her, and MJ didn’t want to pin all of her irrational emotions onto Gwen.

“No, no, I’m fine. You stay here and dance with Gwendy. I’ll be back,” She makes her way to the exit and peeks back at the two of them. They’re smiling and goofily dancing to the slow song. MJ has never really had a girl friend before. _Gwen really is great, you know? You’d like her._ Peter echoes in her mind.

MJ heads out the door.

* * *

The cool air on MJ’s bare shoulders sobers her up a little. Sitting on the curb in the parking lot, she reflects on what just happened. God, did she make a fool of herself in there? What has gotten into her recently? Why, of all people, is Peter making her go so crazy? She hasn’t had the chance to sit down and have a good, hard look at what Peter meant to her. She knows that he’s the first boy to ever make her feel so many emotions, good and bad. What is it about him? They just clicked. But he also makes her angrier than she’s ever been at somebody. Albeit, irrationally, more often than not.

MJ doesn’t _like_ Peter, that’s just ridiculous. Plus, it doesn’t even matter if she did anyways, he’s with Gwen now, and she promises herself she would never mope over a boy. And why is it that there’s an insanely sweet, charming, good-looking guy inside waiting for her, but she’s out here thinking of Peter? Maybe she should just go out with Harry officially. Just have fun. Is that fair to him, though? Harry is nice but he doesn’t give MJ the feeling all those sappy rom coms are usually about. Could it maybe develop over time? Or if it’s not there to begin with, does it ever come? That feeling probably doesn’t even exist. MJ decides to just stop focusing on dumb boys and get ready for university and a new life.

There are way too many emotions running in MJ’s head, and as if this thought process has summoned him, Peter is now walking towards her.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

He is getting closer and MJ can see him wearing a nice suit. It’s a little battered and baggy, but for the most part he pulls it off. The faint outline of bags under his eyes tell her he isn’t sleeping much and she wonders why.

He has his trusty camera wrapped around his neck and, without warning, he picks it up and takes a photo of MJ.

“A warning would’ve been nice,” she says, blinded by the flash.

“Sorry.” His expression is apologetic, doing his trademark scratch behind his neck thing that used to make MJ blush.

“Gwen’s inside,” MJ gets to the point.

“And why are you out here by yourself?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice.

Why does it matter? They haven’t talked since the fight and it’s inevitable that they’re just drifting apart. Despite going to the same university, it should be big enough that they don’t have to run into each other.

That is… If she hadn’t of blabbed to Gwen about being roommates. She probably forgot about it by now anyways.

“Why were _you_ late?” MJ asks back.

“Oh, uhm. I just got held up doin-- I mean, I-I got a stain on my suit and Aunt May was trying to get it off, so…” he stammers, and MJ narrows her eyes at him, not really buying it, but her head is too fuzzy for her to question it.

“So what do you say we head inside?” Peter says, holding out his hand to help MJ up. “I’ve heard this is a once-in-a-lifetime event that you don’t wanna miss.”

MJ couldn’t bare thinking of entering that gymnasium watching Peter find his way to Gwen, so she crosses her arms across her chest.

“Yeah, I’m just going to stay out here for a sec, I’ll see you in there Pete.” She adds a smile, because she doesn’t want Peter to feel bad tonight.

His hand lingers in the air for a fraction longer than it should, and he doesn’t take his eyes off MJ. Finally, he straightens up, still looking at her expectantly.

“You look really beautiful, Mary Jane.” He waits there for a second longer again, as if there was something else he wanted to say, but decided against it and makes his way into the building.

MJ freezes, a shiver crawling up her spine and she blows a piece of hair out of her face. She couldn’t deny it any longer: She had strong feelings for Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

The sounds of taxi horns, people’s apartment air conditioners, and the shouting citizens of New York make MJ feel oddly at ease. It has been a long month, but graduation is finally over. She has made it to the city she has dreamt of living in for as long as she can remember at last, and she feels like things are finally falling into place. Well, she still needs to find a job, get into ESU, and put money towards a dorm if she does, but she’s making progress just by being there right now, and that at least counts for something.

Finding a vacant wrought iron table outside of the coffee shop she was just in, she sits herself down and nibbles on a bagel.

“Nope. Nope. Nuh-uh. _Nooo way_ ,” She mumbles to herself flipping through the newspaper she pulled out of her backpack, tapping her pen against the table. It’s hard to find a job that doesn’t involve cleaning of some sort, whether that be of toilets, schools, dishes, houses. Nothing seems to fit MJ’s strengths and interests, but maybe she’d have to settle for now.

The August heat makes the back of MJ’s tank top stick to her uncomfortably. She needs to find a place to apply soon, otherwise she just might melt out here.

MJ gets a little discouraged and places the paper down on the table. Glancing down, she sees the headline on the front page.

_**SPIDER-MAN: MASKED MENACE** _

Spider-Man has been New York’s latest obsession over the last month or so. _The_ subject to talk about to neighbours in elevators, to strangers in long lines, in the waiting room of doctor’s offices. He swung in, no pun intended, out of nowhere in his red and blue unitard into people’s lives. Saving their lives. The journalist in MJ can’t help but feel like this vigilante is trying to help. She has made it her life’s goal ever since he showed up to write the most well-recognized articles on the Web Head. She can just picture it now, winning a Pulitzer prize for how she persuaded the masses of New York City in favour of this hero with her words alone. Getting published in the most prestigious papers like the New York Times and attending fancy galas for her work.

The buzzing of MJ’s mobile phone in the pocket of her shorts snap her out of this little fantasy. It’s a number she doesn’t recognize.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Hi MJ! I got your number from Peter, I’m sorry if this is-- Oh, it’s Gwen, by the way. Gwen Stacy. Anyways, I was applying for my dorm today and my mom totally pulled some strings to let me choose my own roommate and stuff. Normally they’re assigned, but my mother always donates to the school and got a few favours owed and-- wow, this is a lot of information,” She gives an awkward laugh. “I was just wondering if you still wanted to be roommates?”

MJ sits quiet for a second, picking out a loose string on her jean shorts. The last time she saw Gwen was at the graduation ceremony where they shared a weird hug-pat-thing and a ‘congratulations’ towards each other. She hasn’t even seen or talked to Peter since the night of the prom a month ago. MJ hardly remembers her silly request to be roommates and didn’t even think Gwen thought anything of it. So to say this caught her by surprise is an understatement. She hasn’t even got her acceptance letter from Empire State yet.

“...MJ? Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, not at all! I’m just in a busy street right now,” MJ says quickly, feeling a bit bad for lying. “But, about this roommate thing, since you can choose your own, wouldn’t you prefer to stay with a friend?” She asks, hoping she doesn’t sound too rude and decides to make it lighter. “I mean, your mom sounds like quite the genie and I don’t want you wasting your first wish on me.”

Now it’s Gwen’s turn to be quiet for a bit. “Oh,” she replies softly. “Well, it’s just that none of my friends are really going to ESU and… I just thought, since you said… It was stupid of me to assume.”

Once again, she finds herself unable to let down this girl who, from the moment they met, has been nothing but nice to MJ.

“It wasn’t stupid! It’s just…” MJ pauses. “I don’t know if I’m actually _in_ yet. I haven’t gotten my letter.”

It’s a little embarrassing to admit, especially to a girl who probably had her name guaranteed in any university she could ever want to go to by age 15, but the way Gwen audibly perks up at not being rejected makes it not matter so much.

“That’s easy to fix! I’ll just call my mom and get her to tell them to hurry up in giving you a reply. If it’s not imposing, of course.”

MJ normally doesn’t like people doing her favours, but not knowing has been driving her crazy. It would be a huge weight off her shoulders if she knew she was in and had a place to stay with a roommate that isn’t a crazy axe murderer, or something.

“And then if you’re in, we can be roommates?” There wasn’t any hint of sarcasm in this girl’s voice, ever. She is just as genuine and nice as she was pretty and smart. What MJ says here will define her next year at university until the school year ends and they’re assigned different roommates for next year. She can just see the two of them sprawled out on a tiny sofa doing their homework; for MJ, English, and Gwen, advanced sciences. Peter will inevitably be in her life again despite keeping him at a distance since she figured out she had intense feelings for him. Could she be roommates with Gwen when those emotions could so easily rise to the surface at any time and blow everything up?

MJ didn’t have many friends besides Harry, who has been busy the past month getting everything ready for all the interns at Oscorp. So, it’s just been her lately. And here’s Gwen, someone MJ could really be friends with, trying to reach out to her. It’s a quick decision. One MJ will most likely regret, but as for right now she just really wants a friend.

“Yeah. Let’s be roommates.”

* * *

The bells on the glass door chime as MJ exits out of Cheyenne Diner. It’s definitely not where she envisioned working in the city, but the manager seemed pretty eager to have her on board to be a waitress. She has to wear a short yellow dress and have a fake name like ‘Candy’ on her nametag and handle rude customers, but at least it will pay the bills. She starts next week at 8 PM. It’s a little risky to have a night job where the shift ends at 1 AM on the weekends in the city, but she needs the money, and at least now she can check that off of her mental list.

All she needs is to get into ESU, organize her dorm with Gwen, and she’ll be on the path to the future she wants. MJ hopes her letter comes soon as she hoists her backpack that contains a few of her clothes and toiletries on her shoulder. Money is running scarce and she won't risk leaving too many things back at the cheap hostel she's been saying for the past few days.

The sun is going down and MJ decides to call it a day and head back to her cramped up room. She wakes up as early as she can to walk around the city and waits till the last moment to go back, as the guy in the hall always hits on her despite her discomfort. At least it’s just a temporary situation.

MJ walks down the steps to the underground subway and ties her hair into a high ponytail. It’s extremely hot and the crowded station isn’t making it any better. Taking her phone out of her back pocket, she realizes she has a missed call from the university. She doesn’t even have time to stress over whether it’s good or bad news when she hears the first blood-curdling scream followed by a gunshot.

“GET DOWN! I SAID GET THE FUCK DOWN!” A man’s voice shouts.

The crowd is starting to panic and screams are echoing through the walls of the tunnel. MJ’s eyes widen and her breaths are coming in short pants. Instinct kicks in and she dials 911 into her phone.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

One of the masked men lock eyes with MJ and points his gun right at her from the other side of the tunnel. She tucks the device back into her pocket (without ending the call so she remains on the line) while putting her hands in the air. She sees a few people in black clothing and masks with huge guns make their way towards her and the crowd. The man with the gun pointed at MJ puts it back to his side and follows the rest.

“ON THE GROUND, NOW.”

Everybody obeys. MJ lays down on the cold sticky concrete next to a woman who is sobbing uncontrollably.

“YOU ARE ALL OUR HOSTAGES NOW. WE WILL KILL ONE OF YOU EVERY HALF AN HOUR UNTIL THE MONEY IS WIRED TO US.”

MJ realizes the initial reaction here should be fear, but she can’t help but feel the utter disgust at what some people will do for money. The humour doesn’t escape her either, how this is her first week in the city, the city in which she dreamt to live in since she could remember, and she’s already in danger and might not make it out alive.

“THE CLOCK STARTS NOW. IF IT’S NOT TRANSFERRED IN THIRTY MINUTES, _WELL_ , SAY GOODBYE TO ONE OF YOU. THE ENTRANCE IS LOCKED. NOBODY CAN GET IN OR OUT SO I WOULDN’T TRY ANYTHING STUPID IF I WERE YOU.”

A few minutes pass, but it feels like it’s been hours. The woman beside MJ has been whispering prayers under her breath between sobs, and MJ notices a little girl on the other side of her. There are streams of tears staining her cheeks, and she is hugging her knees, making her look very small. MJ scoots herself over to the little girl and looks down at her.

“Did you lose your parents?” MJ whispers to the child. She nods her head, the mention of them making her whimpers a little louder.

MJ reaches out and grabs her hand, holding it tightly, brushing her thumb across the top of it to sooth her.

“My name is MJ, and I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear me?” The girl looks up to MJ for a second before moving closer to her, burrowing her face into her chest. MJ protectively wraps her arms around the girl and hums into her ear, trying to block out the shouts and swears the criminals are making. The lack of money in the their funds is getting obvious as they seem to be getting more and more agitated.

When your life is in danger, fear does funny things to you, and MJ can’t help but wonder that if she is murdered here today, would anybody really notice? She hasn’t spoken to her dad since she's left Queens and chances are he wouldn’t realize for a long time. Harry is so caught up with everything at Oscorp right now that he probably wouldn’t, either. Gwen could… But it wouldn’t be a big deal to her. MJ’s absence wouldn’t haunt her. She would be upset but inevitably get over it, probably sooner than later. Would Aunt May mourn for MJ? Or would Pet--

“TIME’S UP. WHO’S THE FIRST TO GO? HOW ABOUT YOU?”

The man bends down and grabs the little girl whom MJ is consoling. No. _No no no._

“GET OFF OF HER. GET OFF HER, YOU PIG!” MJ yells as loud as she can muster up and darts towards the man, grabbing the little girl who is now screaming at the top of her lungs. The man throws the girl aside, while MJ is still cradling her.

“Alright, then let’s go with you, you dumb woman.” He grabs MJ’s upper arm with so much force her head jerks a little. MJ lets go of the girl, and tries hard to give a reassuring smile, even though her vision is blurred with tears.

“It’ll be okay. It’ll be alright. Just go hide behind her!” MJ yells and points to the woman who was praying earlier. The little girl stands there and bawls, but she gets so scared at the way the man is handling MJ she obeys.

MJ focuses her attention back to the man, and she jerks and pulls and struggles, trying to escape his grasp on her, but he is strong. Pushing her onto her knees in front of him, he grabs a fist full of her ponytail pulling her head back towards him. A cool, hard object rests on her temple which she can only assume is a gun. MJ’s lip quivers but she refuses to cry. She will _not_ cry.

“Such a shame. Such a waste of a pretty face," he whispers in her ear, and his breath reeks. Now’s the only time she will get the chance. She swings her elbow behind her and it connects to the man’s groin, _hard_. He doubles over and curses loudly, letting go of MJ’s hair. She crawls away with nowhere to go, but the fight for survival overwhelming her. The man’s regaining composure and she can hear another person from their group start to run towards her.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The man screams

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, that is no way to talk to a lady.”

MJ hears the voice and wonders who it belongs to. He sounds so confident and it feels extremely out of place considering the situation. Is it some kid trying to play hero? MJ turns around on her back and sees him. Sees _Spider-Man_.

“Sorry I’m late, my train was delayed.” Spider-Man says.

It stuns MJ for a second. To see how gracefully he swings in the air. How he lands perfectly on the criminals and webs them up with... Whatever it was that came out of his wrists. She is mesmerized. How could anybody possibly think this man (if he could even be called that, he sounds very young) is a menace when he’s obviously just trying to do the best he can? One of the men is covered head to toe in the webbing already, stuck up against the wall. He’s onto the second woman while Spider-Man is battling off a third man. It’s quite impressive and MJ feels overwhelmingly… Safe.

As he easily fights off the crooks, MJ’s adrenaline rush goes down. She needs to help, so she tries to gather the people around her and lead them away from the fight and into a safer spot at the train station. She finds the little girl immediately and grabs her hand, ushering the rest of the people down the tunnel. Some sit, others stand, huddled in a mix of fear and relief. Some watching the fight in awe, others trying to calm themselves or people next to them down. Something clicks in MJ and she gets her phone, the call has ended awhile ago but she knew they heard enough for the police to be on their way. So she decides to open her camera on the mobile and starts snapping as many pictures as she can while still hanging onto the child. Just because she’s going to be working as a waitress for a little while, it doesn’t mean she has given up her goal of being a journalist. Having an article written about being in the heart of a fight with Spider-Man just might be her ticket to a big newspaper job.

MJ focuses to keep everything in her mind so she won’t forget any details: how she felt when the man chose her to die, being pushed around, the gun against her head. How Spider-Man swooped in, the quips he made, the relief she and everyone around her felt, how they all owe their lives to him and he neither wants nor expects anything in return. He keeps fighting and protecting people even when they’re unappreciative of him, when they call him a vigilante and a menace, simply because, MJ suspects, he knows it’s the right thing to do.

The man catches Spider-Man at bad timing while he is occupied with another crook and punches Spider-Man in the face. He stumbles back, but he’s clearly strong enough to handle it. It’s captivating to see how this hero will do everything he can to try to stop them, but not act violently towards them. Obviously there’s the odd time where it’s unavoidable, but for the most part he just tries to dodge and restrain. Spider-Man has them all webbed up against the wall now; they are shouting and swearing and it doesn’t seem like there’s any way for them to escape. They’ll be there until the police come.

Spider-Man walks towards all of the civilians and makes sure each one of them are okay and unharmed. He doesn’t even seem to be out of breath, it's like he just casually walked into a room, and not fought a handful of criminals. A couple of the children look up at him with twinkles in their eyes, and MJ notices he makes sure to be extra sweet to them. She catches him saying how he appreciates that they held the fort down for him while he wasn’t around yet, and how brave they were for staying close to their moms and dads so they wouldn't be worried. This guy was genuinely _good_.

"Miss? Miss, are you okay?"

MJ doesn't realize he's talking to her until he crouches down next to her, head tilted to one side, as if in question (it's impossible to tell what expression he has on his face because of the mask).

"Wha-- Oh, yeah, I'm fine, I'm okay, we’re fine," she says, looking down at the little girl who is now hiding behind her arm.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Sorry I didn't arrive before they got to you, but that kid over there told me you tried calling the police for help. That was _very_ smart of you."

"Thanks." She's blushing. Why is she blushing.

“And she saved my life.” The little girl whispers, still hiding behind MJ.

“Well, this lady sounds like a hero. And you sound awfully brave yourself.” Spider-Man tells the little girl, which makes her smile and comes out from hiding.

He remains crouching next to MJ for a few seconds longer, the loss of words lingering in the air. She suddenly feels a familiarity. The way he moved, the octave of his voice. Before she can put her finger on it he nods at her and stands up and walks towards more civilians.

A woman frantically runs over to MJ and scoops up the little girl in her arms.

“OH, MY BABY! My baby Abigail.” The woman sobs. “Thank you! Thank you!” She gives MJ a huge hug before wandering back to the rest of her family. The little girl smiles and waves over her mother’s shoulder, and MJ waves back.

"Anybody need a ride to the hospital?" Spider-Man asks, addressing the whole crowd. "I happen to make a mean impression of an ambulance siren."

The giggles break a little bit of the tension on the flat, and Spider-Man sits with the kids, making crazy and exaggerated ambulance sounds until the children are dry-eyed and mellow, and then he suddenly stands up and announces he needs to leave because he's left his stove on.

Not knowing what has gone over her, MJ jogs towards the hero before he swings off, for her to most likely never see him again.

“Uhm-- Spider-Man?” She speaks a little louder, feeling odd addressing him that way.

“Yes, Mar-- Ahem, Miss?” He mumbles.

“I was just wondering. I know this is so, so stupid. I was just hoping-- Could I ask you one question? I'm a starving journalist, you see, and well, this experience has probably been the most noteworthy I’ve ever had. For my article, I was just wondering if I could ask, if you’re comfortable, why do you do it?” MJ feels like an idiot. Unprofessional. She sounds way too young and not confident enough, but at least she had the courage to ask and that counts for something.

“Do it?” There’s a softness and humour in his voice.

“Save-- Everyone. From what I’ve gathered, you don’t get anything out of it. Except a horrible headline in the Bugle.”

He stops, seeming to really ponder the question, and carefully think about his answer. “What I get out of it is knowing that I’ve done my best to help people with greatness in them, such as you, and everyone else on this platform. To make sure they’re safe.” He looks at MJ. “I look forward to reading your article; it’ll be nice to have someone on my side for a change.”

And with that, he swings off down the tunnel, and MJ looks down, a smile appearing on her lips.

* * *

MJ decides against jumping on another train to get back and walks home instead. It's been a wild night and she's excited to write the article of a lifetime on everything that happened.

It’s still almost impossible to believe that what just happened actually happened. MJ knew she wasn’t exactly a coward, but Spider-Man’s words, that was very smart of you, run in her mind. Trying to call 911, escaping the man’s hold on her, leading the group to a safer place. She felt proud of herself.

Distracted, still thinking about everything, she turns the corner and bumps into someone.

“Oof!”

The person grabs MJ’s arms frantically and just as she’s about to struggle free she looks up to see Peter’s worried expression.

“Mary Jane. How are-- Were you in there? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His voice sounds urgent and it alarms MJ a little. How did he…

“Peter? Yeah, I’m all good. Spider-Man came and-- Why are you here?”

He stares into her eyes deeply, as if her question didn’t exactly reach him. He looks exhausted and concerned.

“I was taking pictures," he lets go of one of her arms to tap onto his camera. “Of… Spider-Man. Why were you down there? Why are you wandering alone at night?”

MJ starts to feel offended, and she’s not sure why. Tonight was perfect proof she's more than capable of handling herself. And why is he just suddenly here like he cares all of a sudden? He doesn’t wish MJ a happy graduation, doesn't even call to make sure she's alive, nothing. She hasn’t exactly put any effort into it herself, but that’s besides the point.

“Contrary to popular belief, I am able to get from point A to point B all by myself.” Sarcasm drips in her reply. She feels a little bad about it, but she doesn’t like people making her feel small and helpless.

Peter steps back a bit, not expecting her outburst.

"That's not what I meant, Mary Jane, I just-- Forget about it.”

It upsets her how everything with Peter seems to be so difficult now. Every interaction, brief and spread apart as they may be, brings up the opposite of every feeling he gave her when they were closer than she ever thought two people could be. And for some crazy, unknown reason, she still can't seem to suppress her feelings for this boy.

“Don’t worry about it. I should probably head back now.” She can’t take this any any longer.

“Where are you staying? I can walk you back if you...”

“No, I’m fine Peter,” she cuts him off. “Thank you,” she adds to sound less harsh, seeing his worried expression. He didn’t really deserve the lashing out.

He looks a bit wounded but he covers it up quick enough. “Will I see you at ESU any time soon?” He asks, a hopeful tone in his voice.

She had completely forgotten about the missed call from the university. Butterflies start to overwhelm MJ’s stomach and she hopes that they’ve left a message; excited and terrified at what it could be.

“Uh-- Ask your girlfriend. I've gotta go, Pete. It was nice seeing you.” MJ puts her hands into the pockets of her jacket and walks in the direction to her hostel. This crazy night is getting overshadowed by the weight and pressure of whether or not she has gotten into Empire State. Not even Peter could distract her thoughts from this.

After a long walk of thinking of everything and anything what the call could have possibly meant, she finally makes it to her building and blocks out the inappropriate comments made by the man yelling out of his room.

She slams the door behind her and punches her voice mail password into her phone, only to hang up after it was confirmed that it was in fact a voice mail from the university. _Oh God_. She throws the phone onto her fold-out-couch-bed and paces the room. _Come on, MJ. You’ve managed to escape a criminal's hold on you tonight. You can face this_.

Finally she plucks up the courage to listen to it and redials her password.

“Hello, I am calling for a Miss Watson. This is Ashley Kafka, the Dean here at Empire State. We are sorry that your letter has seemed to have gotten lost in the mail. I am calling to congratulate you on being accepted into our school and we are pleased to have you. If you could stop by the campus at your earliest convenience so we can give you the letter of requirements and expectations, that would be lovely. In fact, we have a dorm room here waiting for you, we will just need a credit card on file before we can give you the keys. I apologize for the informality of this call, we just do not have an address for you. But we will sort everything out once you get here, Miss Watson. Thank you.”

The message ends and it’s just white noise on the other end now, but MJ is frozen like a statue.

“I got in…” She whispers under her breath. “I... GOT... IN!” She’s now shouting from the top of her lungs. There’s a banging noise coming from the other side of her wall followed by some colourful language, but nothing can bring MJ down from this high. She laughs to herself, and with this newfound confidence she sits down and pulls her laptop in front of her and starts writing her article on Spider-Man.

She recounts how her completely normal day had been turned upside down and then back up again. How heroic "Spidey" had been, how thankful everyone was, and what a gift to the city he is. She writes, deletes, writes again, fixes something here and there, gets frustrated and gets up to walk around the room to get her brain working better, writes some more and, before she knows it, it's nearly dawn, but she's finally finished. And it's a good article, if she says so herself. Great, even. One of her best yet. And tomorrow she'll start looking for places to publish it. _Maybe the Daily Bugle_ , she thinks, aiming high.

Feeling accomplished, she gets into bed to try and get some rest before she can go to ESU and sort everything out there. Happy this is her last night in this vile hostel, MJ falls asleep feeling lighter than she has in ages, the faint outline of a smile still on her lips.

* * *

The sleep came easily at first, but the nightmares found their way into MJ’s subconscious. The black masked man roughly handling her. The cool gun placed on her temple. Every time the gun is just about to go off she wakes up in a panic, sweaty and panting.

MJ wakes up for the last time and just decides to remain awake and to get out of this place. She packs up the few belongings she has to her name and exits the small room, feeling a little tired. She runs down to the lobby before she can have any encounters with creepy-hall-guy. MJ hands over her keys at the front desk a little too excitedly despite the lack of sleep and makes her way down to the university; maybe she could even drop her things off at her new dorm.

She arrives at the tall red brick building and marvels at the magnitude and importance of it. Everything is so big and she wants to take it all in. She’s here.The grass surrounding the entrance is where she can imagine students like to sit on against trees to study, or read, or just hang out with friends. The huge stone courtyard and walls covered in ivy leading up to long hallways with the classrooms, and the Dean's office farther out. There’s only a few odd students here and there who are early for the semester, probably misfits like MJ who don’t really have anywhere else to go.

Making her way to the deans office, she tells herself she will go to the Bugle tomorrow and hopefully sell her article. Maybe even get a full time position so she can ditch the waitress gig. She enters the office and asks for Mrs. Kafka, but she seems to be busy right now, so instead the nice-looking secretary gives MJ all of the papers she needs. She gets MJ’s information on file including her credit card, and then hands her the keys to her dorm.

MJ suppresses the urge to jump up and down right then and there. She wonders if Gwen will be there already, but cancels the idea out as Gwen has a loving family that will probably want to keep her home until the last moment. She lugs all of her things behind her as she looks at the paper in her hands. _414 D_. She gets into the elevator and hits the floor 4 button, which she is guessing what the D stands for. The doors open and she wanders down the hall, finding 414.

She slides the keys in and barely twists the doorknob when somebody exists the room beside hers. _No way_ …

“Peter?!” What is he doing here? I mean, the dorms _are_ co-ed and he _is_ attending ESU, but still. Right beside her? “Are you, like, stalking me now?” She banters.

Suddenly, the irritating idea of Mrs. Stacy requesting Peter to be next door to her and Gwen like she had requested MJ to be Gwen’s roommate comes to mind. But that sounds like quite the stretch, and hopefully isn’t the case.

“Wow, what are the odds.” He looks genuinely puzzled.

MJ looks up to the ceiling as if talking to some sort of higher power. _Why are you doing this to me_ , she thinks.

“I’m 416 D. You’re-- You’re 414?” He says, looking at her door. It doesn’t seem like this has been planned.

“Well, yeah. Did you not talk to Gwen about this? We’re roommates and all…” She answers him.

“Really? I mean Gwen hasn’t told me her room number because she hasn’t gotten it yet or anything, she’s still going to be home for another few weeks. She won’t even believe it when I tell her!” He scratches the back of his neck with his hand, giving a polite smile.

“Ha-- Yeah. Crazy coincidence,” She replies while leaning her shoulder against the door that’s now ajar. It opens and she stumbles but covers it up quickly and she can see him holding back a laugh.

 _Great_. Now not only did she sign up to have to hide her feelings for this goof in front of Gwen as her roommate, she will now have to endure having Peter in her face more often than not. This will be an interesting year. She prays to not have a class with all three of them in it.

“So… I should probably get settled, got a lot of stuff to unpack,” MJ says, hoping he’ll get the hint.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll see you later,” he replies. “ _Neighbour_.”

* * *

That night MJ dreams of getting her article published in the Bugle, and her success starts rolling in from there. J. Jonah Jameson welcomes MJ with open arms and gets her her own section in the paper where she writes articles on the infamous Wall Crawler. People cry when they see her, ask her for her autograph all the time. She goes on talk shows for her work and every paper begs for her to be their own journalist.

That couldn’t be farther from what happened the next morning.

“No. No, no, _NO_!” She can see the spit flying from J. Jonah Jameson’s mouth, the sun shining down on him from his office window that’s very high in the sky. There seems to be a pulsing vein in the top right of his forehead and MJ bites her lip, trying to hide how ridiculous she thinks he is.

“You’ve got it all _wrong_! This unitard wearing imbecile is the enemy! The _ENEMY_! Ms. Brant, why did you let this foolish young girl in here? “  He yells. “Hero… _Hero_?!…” Now he’s mumbling under his breath.

“Mr. Jameson, I think you may be blinded by hate, because I honestly think he is trying to help--” MJ tries to squeeze in before he interrupts.

“Blinded?! BLINDED!? I’ll have you know I have perfect 20/20 vision!”

“Sir, remember you need to keep your blood pressure down. Calm yourself!” His secretary, who MJ assumes is Ms. Brant, calls from the other room. She has an unimpressed expression and she probably has to babysit more than do her actual job, MJ thinks.

Mr. Jameson closes his eyes and breathes deeply with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and MJ tries not to laugh. The phone rings besides the obnoxious man and he answers it with a loud hello, despite MJ standing in front of him.

She looks around the room and sees large print outs of newspaper headlines covered protectively in glass. The air smells of cigar smoke and coffee. Despite Mr. Jameson being so melodramatic, he was passionate about what he did. He was very successful, and MJ did look up to him in a sense. She slowly sees her dreams of at least interning here vanish, and she can feel her stomach sink. She really wanted this. She _deserved_ this.

The man slams the phone down back on the hook and glances at MJ, clearly forgetting she was still there. He’s just about to open his mouth when somebody else enters the room.

“Mr. Jameson, I have some new photos of him, and I honestly think these ones will make you believe that--” Another voice says.

Peter. _How big is New York?_ MJ thinks. The amount of bump ins are just getting ridiculous.

“Not now, Parker! I already have one bug groupie in my office.” Mr. Jameson shouts.

Peter looks over to MJ and his eyes widen. MJ rolls her eyes at him and looks straight forward to Mr. Jameson.

“Look, Mary.”

“MJ,” She corrects.

“This isn't going to work. Unless you can write a good piece about all the criminals running around the city lately now that that wall crawler’s around, there is no work for you here," He says through his teeth, a lot calmer than before, as Ms. Brant is staring at him through the glass with an authoritative look.

“She definitely could. Mary Jane is very talented, I went to school with her and she got top marks in English and Journalism classes and she wrote for our school’s paper. She would be a great addition...” Peter trails off.

MJ’s initial feeling is annoyance. She doesn’t want help from anyone to get her where she wants to be and that includes from Peter. Plus, she doesn’t think it will even amount to much to Mr. Jameson. But MJ feels her face go red, how Peter knew how she excelled in these areas…

She crosses her arms over her chest and digs her fingernails into her palms to regain composure.

“I won’t let you down, sir. Just give me a due date and I will get you the best article you’ve read.” She’s over confident, and in the back of her mind she is yelling at herself, but she can do this.

Mr. Jameson is looking at something on his desk, barely even paying attention. He does a shooing motion with his hand towards her.

“You can be freelance like Parker here. Get me something by Friday and we can see if this arrangement works out. Now get out of my office before I change my mind, DJ!”

MJ is so excited she doesn’t even correct him.

“Thank you, sir, see you on Friday,” She smiles.

Collecting her article, she begins to walk out of his office, passing Peter on the way out. He mouths _‘wait for me’_ to her and she sucks her lips into her mouth and looks away. She walks out of the room and smiles fondly at Ms. Brant who is on the phone and giving MJ a polite smile back. She must remember to thank her on Friday for making Mr. Jameson bearable. She lifts her bag onto her shoulder and heads to the elevator. When the doors close, she jumps up and down making high pitched noises that are very unprofessional, but in the confines of the shoot, MJ doesn't care. The meeting didn’t exactly go the way she wanted it to, but nothing rarely does. However, if she plays her cards right and works extremely hard, she could be published in the Daily Bugle. That is something that MJ will never take for granted.

She’s on the main level now and she’s just about to exit the door when she remembers that Peter wanted her to wait for him. She debates just leaving, as she's sure nothing good will come out of this. But there was a time where Peter was her friend, and feelings or not, she doesn’t want to hurt him.

So she sits cross-legged on one of the sofas with her bag next to her and pulls out her phone. She has a missed call from Harry (nice to know he still remembers she exists), and a text from Gwen.

_Hey MJ! I heard you’re all settled in the dorm. I will be there in about a week! Can’t wait to make some awesome memories in that cramped little place!_

_\- G xo_

To MJ’s surprise, a smile creeps up on the corner of her lips. This girl could actually be a good friend. MJ looks up and sees Peter scanning the lobby looking for her. His hair is messier than ever, his hoodie needs a good iron. It feels like something is caught in MJ’s throat -- maybe it won't be so easy to be Gwen’s friend.

He locks eyes on MJ and smiles, making his way towards her. MJ remains sitting.

“So, you’re on Spider-Man’s side too, huh?” He says, like he’s proud of the hero. He sits down in the chair next to MJ.

“I mean, he did save my life and all.” She says, giving a half smile.

He nods and looks down to his camera in his hands.

“You want to work for the Bugle, too?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just in the meeting with her and Mr. Jameson.

“Yep. Working for a big newspaper company has always been a dream of mine, even if it’s for a _stresscase_ like that.” MJ motions her thumb upwards as if pointing to Mr. Jameson and Peter gives a genuine laugh.

“I actually didn’t know you worked here. I mean, it makes sense now that I think about it.” MJ adds.

“Yeah, I take the photos of Spider-Man for the papers. I’ve made it my civic duty to convince that _walking heart attack_ that Spidey’s just trying to help.”

“Good luck with _that_.”

They both start to laugh, making each other laugh even more, almost to the point of tears. After they're calmer, a pause comes afterwards. MJ forgot that she wanted to keep her walls up when it came to Peter. Sometimes it just feels so natural and… _Good_ with him, that it'ss hard to push him away.

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” MJ finally breaks the silence.

All of a sudden Peter freezes as if he just saw a ghost. MJ furrows her brow, wondering what could possibly have just happened. After a second he looks at her, forgetting about the conversation entirely.

“Oh, yeah, just wanted to say I’m glad you’re alright. Look, Mary Jane-- I gotta--”

“No biggie, Tiger. See you later," MJ responds, disappointed, as she gathers up her things.

“Mary Jane, I’m really--”

“It’s fine, Peter. Talk to you later,” She tries to give a convincing smile.

He sits there watching her collect her things, a pained expression on his face. He seems to get over it soon enough, though, because he gets up and she watches as he leaves out the front door.

After awhile, she stands up while taking a deep breath and blowing it out of her mouth exasperatedly. _Now_ she remembers why things are harder with Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Graphic Description of Violence/Weapons
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

Classes don’t begin for another few days, so MJ decides to get to know the campus a little bit better to avoid getting lost. She can already picture it on her first day, running into the wrong class and almost dying of embarrassment, so she’s determined to make the most out of her time here.

She’s taken a look at what classes she will be taking, where each department is, the best spots in the library, and, most importantly, where to get the best cup of coffee. Turns out it’s this little hidden place in the campus and the barista already knows her by name. MJ has even started her mandatory reading so she can go into class on her first day and ace it.

She hasn’t seen Peter since they ran into each other at the Bugle, for which she’s relieved. Aunt May will probably want him home for as long as possible before he leaves.

Gwen arrives a couple days before the semester officially starts, and she greets MJ with a big smile and a hug, which MJ returns politely despite not being a huggy type person herself. Gwen’s things take up surprisingly little space except for her thick books on the shelf next to the couch. MJ took the room on the right when she arrived a while ago, and Gwen happily unpacks her thing in the room on the left without hesitation. It only dawns on MJ now that she should have probably let Gwen pick, but she is extremely easygoing. The dorm looks really cozy and perfect for the two of them by the time she finishes putting her things away. There’s fairy lights hanging above the cabinets in the kitchen, and a nice vase of flowers sitting on the windowsill looking out on the campus and the skyscrapers beyond MJ doesn’t want to think about where the flowers came from.

They make pleasant conversation during the day. MJ shares her findings of the best nooks in the school while they eat breakfast at the kitchen table in the mornings. Turns out they have very different tastes in everything, including cereal. Gwen usually picks a healthier option, but when it comes to MJ, she won’t eat it unless it has an obscene amount of sugar in it.

They are extra polite with each other, with a hundred thank-yous, excuse-mes and no-please-you-firsts, but over the next few days it gets a little easier, and she even finds herself laughing a lot. Gwen is actually quite funny, in a quirky, cute way and it compliments MJ’s sarcastic and dry wit. Things go smoothly for the next few days because of it, and MJ stays up late a lot, writing the article for the Bugle that’s due at the end of the week. Gwen even lends her feedback, and it's nice to have another pair of eyes to look her writing over. She is so nice that when she corrects MJ on any typos, it doesn't feel offensive, it feels as if a friend is checking for any lipstick marks on her teeth to avoid her any embarrassment.

The nights are a little harder. Gwen goes to bed early and MJ is left with the silence of the dorm ringing too loudly in her ears when she isn’t writing anything. She's been a little afraid of going to sleep since the attack on the subway, because the nightmares she has about it are too vivid and real. She can feel the gun against her head, the screams of the people around her, how her body felt cold, as if her blood had given up running through it. She wakes up in a cold sweat and can't sleep for the rest of the night when it happens.

MJ’s first class is Introduction to Journalism, and she couldn’t be more excited about it. She ends up getting a few hours of sleep in, despite the excitement, nightmares, and working the late shift at the diner that night, and wakes up before her alarm. Quietly opening the door so she doesn’t wake Gwen, she makes her way into the shower. It’s relaxing; the steam, the heat, the way the water muffles up all other noises so MJ can just be left alone with her thoughts.

After getting ready, MJ grabs her things and tries to slowly walk to her classroom, getting some coffee on the way. She glances at the students running back and forth between the campus, trying to figure out which ones are freshmen and which already know their way around.

The lesson goes pretty well. She doesn’t know anybody in her class, so there was nothing to keep her from paying attention. She probably takes far too many notes than is necessary, but she gets some tips on what she can do to spruce up her article for the Bugle.

Now that school has begun, Gwen and MJ don’t see too much of each other. When MJ isn’t in class she’s either in the library, at work, or up late writing her piece for Mr. Jameson, and when Gwen isn’t buried in a pile of books, she stays with Peter next door. She hears him sometimes, and sees him around despite her trying to subtly avoid it, but so far they’re not taking any classes together. They’re usually across the building from each other, him in the sciences like Gwen, her in the arts. It makes things easier.

* * *

Friday rolls around, and it’s her last day of classes for the week. MJ sits in a studio-like room with a few gadgets that she and her coursemates go around the room taking a look at. There’s a lot of different types of cameras, lenses, lights, and more things MJ’s not quite sure what they are.

“Welcome to Intro to Photographic Communication! My name is--”

“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m sorry I’m late!” Someone bursts through the door, interrupting the professor’s introduction, making everyone’s heads turn.

“And who might you be?” The professor asks.

“I’m Peter Parker, sir.”

_Of course._

It makes sense for Peter to take a photography class, seeing as he's had his camera strapped to his neck for so long now that it's probably become part of his body. But MJ didn't think he'd be taking one here at ESU, what with the insane workload the science kids have to do, and certainly not an introductory level one. He already has a job selling his pictures, he's surely more than just a beginner. MJ starts to wonder if he's doing this sort of thing -- being everywhere that she is -- as some kind of joke.

"Hey, Mary Jane!" Peter greets, sitting next to her. "Didn't know you liked photography."

"It's mandatory if you're doing Journalism," she replies flatly. She's been doing great in her classes so far, and she doesn't need any distractions.

"Right, right. I'm just here 'cause I figured you can never learn too much, you know?" Peter smiles, not paying attention to her tone. "Who knows if I've been pressing all the wrong buttons on this thing?" He lifts his camera from his chest and MJ laughs despite herself. She has never been that good with technological stuff, and it'd be nice to have someone in class to help her figure out how to use all that equipment without her feeling like an idiot for needing to ask in the first place.

The class is equal parts enjoyable and boring, with a lot of names MJ is sure she'll never remember, and the professor is very hands-on, giving students a few cameras to work with. It’s now up to them to take their first pictures of the things in the classroom, making them as interesting as possible.

"Don't forget the aperture, people!" The professor nearly yells, startling everyone. "I will not have any Photoshop correcting for this first assignment, so you better make sure your pictures are not dark and impossible to make out."

MJ is not doing so bad, at least from what she can tell by looking at the people around, who are having a hard time getting all the settings right. She's not afraid to climb up desks and lay down on the ground to get the perfect angle for her photos. MJ notices that Peter clearly knows all of this stuff and he’s already steps ahead of everyone. She sneaks a picture of him looking down at his camera, which she thinks she may have accidentally had her finger in the shot.

"Now, since most of you will be going off to have careers in journalism, I want you to experience what it's like to really photograph, and not just point at a still object and shoot, hoping for the best. So, for next week, you will hand in an entire current events story told only through your pictures. You can choose to talk about what's happening in the school cafeteria or about the queen of England, I don't care, as long as you give me a full story with no words."

Most of the students freeze and start wondering out loud about what they'll photograph, but to MJ it's obvious, and it comes instantly. She's going to photograph Spider-Man.

* * *

The photography teacher, who MJ learned throughout the class was named Mr. Crowly, ends the lesson and she bolts out of the classroom before Peter can stop her. She doesn’t have the time for him wanting to “talk”, but then inevitably bailing afterwards for some unknown reason, because today is the day. She has to give her article to Mr. Jameson. It’s terrifying and amazing all at the same time; it’s a piece she’s proud of so she has high hopes. Excitedly, MJ sprints to the subway station and hops on the next train.

MJ arrives at her stop and she gets off, unconsciously looking up between the buildings, hoping for a glance at the Web Head, or a hint as to where he might appear. Unfortunately, New York City is huge, and these days there seems to be more lunatics around than she can count. Spider-Man has his work cut out for him and surely he doesn’t have time to just swing around posing for a college girl’s homework.

As she approaches the Daily Bugle building, she hopes her dark skinny jeans and knitted sweater are appropriate for the meeting. At least she changed into some black boots instead of her ratty old converse she normally throws on. Earlier that morning, MJ was tempted to ask Gwen if she could borrow something fancier and more professional, but she wants to make it in this business while still being herself. This will have to do.

Entering the elevator she was dancing in a week before, she suddenly feels extremely nervous. She presses floor 54, and it feels like she holds her breath the entire way up.

“Hi, Ms. Brant. I’m here to see Mr. Jameson.” MJ says as she walks proudly to the secretary’s desk.

“Of course! Great to see you again, MJ. Please, just call me Betty. ‘Ms.’ makes me sound like a secretary from the 60’s,” Betty replies with a kind smile. She clicks a button and announces into a speaker. “Boss, MJ’s here.”

Betty stands up, ushering her and MJ into Jameson’s office. MJ marvels at how she manages to work with him. Always having to boss him around, sternly reminding him to take his blood pressure pills without making a fuss about it, day in and day out. MJ knows he’s a great professional, despite being a little passionate and a little biased against certain topics, and he has built the newspaper from the ground up, but she has a feeling the office wouldn’t work so well without Betty around.

“Who?”

“The freelance writer. You hired her last week.”

“Right. Sure. Bring her in.”

Betty and MJ stand there awkwardly, as they’re already in his office. He looks up, realizing this and raises an eyebrow.

“Well? What do you have?!”

Betty gives an encouraging squeeze on MJ’s shoulder and exists the office, closing the door behind her. It’s reassuring and MJ has the confidence to stride on over to his desk. Plopping her backpack onto it, she rummages through it’s contents and finds the article. He’s whistling, obviously she’s taking up too much of his time already. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she hands over the piece of paper that she spent so much time on.

Grabbing it, he lifts it up to the light.

“Mhm. Mhhhm. Yeah. Yes. Sure. Right.”

With every mumble he makes she can feel herself sink further and further into the ground.

“Yeah, this is some good stuff. Good stuff. I like the focus on the damages in the city. Yeah, this’ll do. I’ll give you two fifty for it.”

Two hundred and fifty dollars? It’s definitely more than MJ makes a pay cheque at the diner, but she had been working hard on this article and expected a little more.

“Three fifty.” Where did that come from? She cannot believe it came from her mouth. She would be an _intern_ here if she had to be.

He gives her a hard look. “Three hundred.”

“Deal.” MJ is smiling from ear to ear now.

“Fine. Ms. Brant will write you up the cheque,” He looks back down to something he was working on, dismissing MJ. She walks towards the door when he clears his throat.

“Oh, and TJ, I expect another piece on petty crime going up by this time next week.”

 _I’m going to be published in The Bugle._ It wasn’t going to be front page news and it’s just basically filler content outside of Spider-Man, what people really wanted to read about, but there’s no way she isn’t going to call this a victory.

* * *

Okay, so maybe this Spider-Man thing wasn't the best idea. It's only Saturday, a day after the photography class, but MJ has been racking her brain, trying to figure out just how she'll manage to take pictures of a guy that swings all over the city a few hundred feet up from the ground, and she's coming up with nothing. She has no way of following him, and no way of even knowing where he'll be. However, she doesn't want her story to be about the renovation the east corner of the library is getting, or something as innocuous as that. She wants to make an _impression,_ and plus, following Spider-Man around is bound to help with her writing for the Bugle; seeing him in action when she's not the one in danger and paralyzed by fear. Maybe she can even use her own pictures from her class assignment for her next articles.

She paces around her dorm, lifting pillows from the couch and throwing them across the room trying to find the apron for her ridiculous work uniform.

“It’s in the wash,” Gwen says, not even looking up from her textbook.

Right. She had put it in the laundry with the rest of her stuff (that grease smell is a hard one to remove and the uniform’s been washed probably more often than she’s actually worn it at this point) and must have forgotten.

“Thanks!” She opens the miniature washing machine that Gwen’s parents managed to smuggle into the dorm so the girls wouldn’t have to depend on the school’s laundry room, and grabs the clothes. She sees her camera on the coffee table and decides to put it in her bag as well, just in case.

The weather's been clear all week,. The evenings have been warmer and pleasant, with the slightest of breezes, just enough to move the air around from its staleness, and MJ almost regrets having to work on weekends. The diner is a dive and not many people her age frequent it. However, every now and then there'll be a couple of twenty-something-year-olds stumbling in, looking for a middle-of-the-night snack after too much alcohol and laughter. MJ envies that they can be so carefree while she can't afford to miss one day of work, otherwise her school won't be paid for. She usually brushes off those thoughts and buries them underneath the ones of what reality is now, making it on her own and without anyone's help, like she's always wanted.

MJ's shift goes by mostly uneventfully, with only one or two creeps making lewd comments at her. The diner's TV is on and the cook flips through the channels, stopping when there's an urgent live broadcast of a huge man with animal fur covering his shoulders, looking like a wild beast himself, destroying things around him. Between the smashing, he’s clamoring for Spider-Man to settle some sort of debt they have.

 _This is my chance_ , MJ thinks.

Since the commotion is happening pretty close to the diner, the owner decides to close up for the night and they all go their own ways. MJ stays back, grabbing her camera from her bag and throwing on her coat; she’s thankful it’s long enough to cover up the ghastly yellow uniform. Against all of her better judgement, she starts to walk towards the soon-to-be fight.

Where she is going, she’s not exactly sure. She has her camera hung around her neck like Peter always does and her phone in her other hand so she can track how things go. Her adrenaline starts to kick in and she realizes in order to be a successful journalist she’ll need to put herself in dangerous situations like this frequently. The nightmares were a small price to pay, and what could happen to her getting involved in this tonight may be a bit bigger… But she can do this. She knows she can.

Her phone beeps and it’s a notification with an update on the whereabouts of Spider-Man: he was just seen around Washington Square Park. MJ quickens her pace towards her destination, getting more and more nervous with every step she takes, but swallowing it up.

Before she can spot Spider-Man or the oddly-dressed man who asked for him, she sees a large crowd. She can feel the excitement radiate off of them, the blinking of people’s phones recording the action, and some even laughing and mocking the situation. This makes her realize nobody’s in danger. _Yet_.

She barges through the crowd, elbowing stomachs and stepping on feet, saying half-hearted “excuse mes” and not caring about the rude looks she gets. She has to make it to the very front.

Up close, the man looks even wilder, like he's part animal. Bringing the camera close to her eye, she clicks away, getting great shots of the savage man.

“ _Spidey_!” A child shouts, and MJ looks at him pointing at a building. _There he is._

Barely knowing what she’s doing or what she’s pointing her camera at, she starts clicking the shutter as fast as her finger will allow her, while the crowd around her cheers, claps and urges the hero on. She figures something will be good enough for her project.

“Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess… You’re going as _Mufasa_ this Halloween?” Spider-Man quips. Everyone laughs, but the animal man seems to get angrier and angrier, arching his back as some sort of feline preparing for attack.

The hairs at the back of MJ’s neck stand and she can feel goosebumps all over her body. People start to scatter a little, finally realizing what’s about to happen, so she decides to find a better place to stand that’s not smack-dab in the middle of the fight. It looks like it’s going to be an ugly one.

There’s an alleyway next to a two-story building about half a block from where she’s standing, and it’s blocked by a huge dumpster. It could make a good shield if the fight goes her way, so she runs to it, and just as she reaches the alley a car goes flying and crashes where she was just a few seconds earlier. Before MJ could be thankful for the timing, she snaps a picture of the car, along with the running people and the destruction around her.

She’s still scared, and her heart is threatening to beat right through her chest, but now she realizes there’s something else mixed with it, too. She’s _excited_.

“Would you believe me if I said I was going to wear that same outfit tonight? That would’ve been awkward.” Despite the severity of the fight, Spider-Man still adds in his smart-aleck remarks. “And everyone knows how much I hate awkward situations.”

MJ wonders if he does it to get a rise out of his opponents or if that’s just his way of diffusing the tension because, by the looks of it, all it does is get the bad guys angrier. Spider-Man jumps on the man’s back and puts him in a headlock.

“You… are talking… to Kraven,” the wild man grits through his teeth, “you arrogant insect!”

Kraven struggles free and punches the air, aiming for Spider-Man, but Spidey is too quick. His hand connects with concrete that breaks off the building’s wall and falls close to MJ. She crawls fast to a tilted car near her. Spider-Man lands next to MJ and glances towards her. He freezes immediately, staring at her for a long moment as if there isn’t a battle he’s supposed to be in the middle of right now. If MJ was quicker she would think to take a picture, but she just stands there looking at him as well. There’s something chilling about it.

“LOOK OUT!” MJ screams, seeing a large object coming towards him. He backflips out of the way before she’s even finished warning him and webs up the concrete until it can hit any of the civilians.

“Come on, kitty, let’s finish this some place where there’s less people,” Spider-Man calls out to Kraven, giving MJ one more glance and then swinging through the air far away from her and the rest of them. The wild man follows close behind him, the grunting and roaring getting further and deeper into the maze of New York City.

MJ stands there, paralyzed. So much had just gone on and she doesn’t know how to take it all in. She brushes off all the dirt and rubble on her knees, amazed and terrified. She’s curious as to what the wild-looking man wanted with Spider-Man. All Spidey wants to do is keep New York safe, and she guesses in turn that makes him a target for all the crazies.

She’s close to her school, so she decides to walk back to her dorm, feeling the exhaustion starting to overwhelm her and her muscles protest from the strain of the night. Spider-Man may make it look easy, but it actually takes a lot for a regular person to dodge huge flying objects (especially in the middle of a chaotic city that doesn’t stop even in the face of super-human battles).

MJ wonders if tonight will add to her regular nightmares, knowing that she needs to get used to it. She also ponders how Spider-Man can handle this all the time. He doesn’t get any breaks that he so badly deserves and he is always there no matter what to save the day. _Maybe he gets nightmares too._

Then she remembers him _staring_ at her. Right in the middle of the fight, just standing there and _staring_. She has seen videos (all for professional research, of course) of him in other fights before, ignoring all the pedestrians but making sure they were safe. Except now, with her, he just… bore into her soul. It was quite eerie, but she chalks it up to him recognizing her from the subway station.

Finally MJ makes it back to the university, still on a high because of the excitement from earlier this evening. She’s just about to make her way into her building when she sees a black town car outside of it.

A familiar face exits the vehicle and locks eyes on her. _Harry_.

He isn’t going to ESU. He isn’t going to university in general because, well, he will inherit an entire company soon enough. So MJ knows that he’s there to either see her or Peter.

“There’s a pretty face that I missed,” He says to MJ, his voice velvety and more mature than she remembers.

Forgetting to be mad at him for not talking to her for over a month, she runs towards him and flings her arms around his neck.

“Well, hello, stranger.” Okay, maybe she didn’t _exactly_ forget.

“I know, I know. I am so sorry, MJ. It has been incredibly hectic over at Oscorp and I had to get all the interns--”

MJ interrupts him, “I don’t care, Harry, I just missed you. What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you. Peter said he was worried about you,” he responds. His brow furrows and he does look concerned now that MJ looks closer.

Why on earth would Peter be worried? She hasn’t even seen him since class.

As if Harry senses MJ’s confusion, he answers, “Peter says you were involved in that subway hostage a bit ago. Ever since then he says you keep putting yourself in dangerous situations to get the scoop on Spider-Man.”

How could Peter possibly know where she was tonight, and what does he care what she does with her life, anyway? MJ gets more flustered with every second. She has proven herself time and time again that she is fully competent in taking care of herself. Right now, what she wants more than anything is to not let Peter get under her skin the way he usually does.

“Do you want to get out of here?” She says to Harry, whom she really did miss. It looks like he’s aged a few years. “Maybe get a bite to eat?”

“I’d love that MJ, but I--” he trails off. Of course, he’s busy. MJ completely understands because he has so much to do now, but she just didn’t want to be alone tonight.

“No, that’s totally fine, Harry. Some other time,” she smiles, hiding her disappointment very well.

“You know what? It can wait. I am going to take you out for a nice meal,” he convinces himself.

MJ gives a disgusted look, “Not to one of your French restaurants, please… I need there to be as much grease and carbs as possible.”

“You’re so weird,” he answers, but MJ knows she won.

He places his hand on her lower back and they start to walk to the black car, the driver waiting patiently for them.

* * *

“Oh, God, I am pretty sure this is the best burger I’ve ever tasted,” MJ moans while she’s still chewing, mayonnaise getting all over her chin.

“You say that about every burger,” Harry says rolling his eyes jokingly while picking at his fries, not really eating them. There seems to be something on his mind that he isn’t sharing. MJ just figures it’s Oscorp stuff.

“I can’t hear you over how delicious this burger is.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“ _Mmmmm_.”

“So, are we going to talk about how you’re a mad-woman lately?” Harry cuts to the chase, never being one to dance around a subject for too long, catching MJ by surprise.

She can see Harry sink into his booth a little, clearly having the courage to ask the question, but now that MJ’s green eyes were staring into his brown ones, his confidence has deflated a little.

As he moves the ketchup around on the edge of his plate with a fry, he clears his throat. “I just mean-- when somebody has a near death experience, they don’t usually go chasing after another one a few weeks later.”

She thought it was clear that she didn’t want to talk about this.

“You were there tonight. The whole show down with Spider-Man and Kraven The Hunter,” Harry insists, and it just proves MJ’s point.

She sighs, and tries to play dumb to see if he backs off. “Kraven The _What-er_?”

“MJ.” He says exasperatedly.

“How did you even know that? How does everyone just _know_ where I am all the time?!” She snaps, her face feeling hot and red. She feels like she’s being babysat.

Harry’s quiet for a second, before replying, “Peter was there taking photos and saw you in the midst of it. MJ, it’s not safe. Why were you even there?” He asks genuinely worried, his brow furrowing, accenting the little wrinkle on his forehead that wasn’t there before he had to start learning how to handle his father’s company.

“I was there because I am a _journalist_ , Harry," she tosses her hands up in the air. "It’s up to me to get the latest news. I don’t see how that’s any less important than Peter snapping a few pictures.” She knows she pushed it a little far calling herself a journalist, but she will be one soon, and people are just going to have to get used to the fact that sometimes she’ll be covering potentially dangerous situations. It’s better if they start accepting it now.

They sit in silence for a bit, Harry obviously embarrassed at having brought the subject up and not wanting to continue the conversation, and MJ angry at Peter for his stupid hot-and-coldness that’s giving her whiplash. He has no right to do this to her, they haven’t even really been friends in a long time, and all of this just makes her feel worse about having feelings for him. If he’s not going to make it easier for her to move on, she will.

* * *

A week passes and MJ busies herself with schoolwork, her photography project taking up most of her time, her weekly article for the Bugle, her waitressing work and with anything else she can think of to keep her mind from slowing down. Slowing down means dealing with her feelings and she doesn’t have the energy for that.

Her photography assignment turns out to be the best in the whole class, and the professor even mentions putting it in a gallery one of his friends has, and MJ is elated. If she can just keep working as hard as she is, she’ll have a real shot at making what she’s always dreamed of come true. Peter doesn’t show up to class this week, and MJ’s stomach undoes the knots it had from the moment she woke up when she realizes he’s not there. Not seeing him is easier, and she catches moments of herself almost completely forgetting about him when she’s wrapped up in her work.

Letting go isn’t easy, and she doubts there’s anything she can actually do to _change_ how she feels, or any foolproof three-step methods to change her heart. So “out of sight, out of mind” will have to do for now.

After her classes end for the day, MJ decides to head on back to her dorm. A relaxing night in will be nice after being so incredibly busy for the last few weeks. Gwen is on a fancy trip with Oscorp to Boston for a few days, so she will have the place all to herself.

MJ walks in and throws her bag and shoes on the floor, something she’d never do if Gwen was home. It's not that Gwen is a neat freak or anything, but she is organized and it makes MJ want to be, too. Sometimes.

She puts on comfy woolen socks, some PJ shorts and an old sweater and wanders to the kitchen, heating up some water in a kettle. While she waits for it to steam, MJ glances out of the kitchen window into the dark autumn night. She realizes she feels content for the first time ever, but there's an undertone of loneliness to it. MJ never imagined she would be here, at university, studying what she wanted, having the job of her dreams, even if it's only freelance for now. It's just that, it would be nice to be able to share it with somebody, is all. She inevitably thinks of Peter, but blocks that thought process out as hard as she can, knowing where that will lead. Harry then pops into her mind, but before she can finish where she was going with that, the kettle whistles, interrupting her thoughts.

Stretching up to the top cupboard, she grabs one of those instant ramen noodles in a cup and pours the hot water into it. She then opens up the utensils drawer, something Gwen neatly organized during what is now jokingly known between the two of them as “The Night Gwen Stacy Cried” on account of the effort it took Gwen to convince MJ that, yes, silverware does need its specific place in the kitchen and no, MJ, just leaving them in the sink does not count. Smiling to herself, MJ grabs a fork while closing the drawer with her hip.

Blowing on the steaming cup of noodles, MJ curls up onto the couch while turning on the television. She flips through the channels, but all of them are showing another huge fight going on between Spider-Man and the wild man she photographed the other day, known now as Kraven The Hunter. She mentally kicks herself for not being there right now, but her eyes are glued to the screen. It doesn't look like a fair fight this time, and Spidey seems to be struggling a lot more than he was when she first handedly witnessed the fight. MJ finds herself on the edge of her seat, calling out "watch outs" and "behind yous" under her breath to the hero as if she were watching a horror movie.

The news channels start replaying footage from the fight when Spider-Man flees the scene with Kraven trailing behind him, and the others continue with their regular scheduled programming. MJ sits back against the cushions, wondering if Spider-Man is okay, and what happens to him. _Where does he go after all the crime-fighting is done?_

Before long, MJ is fast asleep on the couch. Nightmares of hostage situations and men in masks fill her subconscious, and her sleep is uneasy and her body trembles. _“You dumb woman!”_ she hears the echo of the subway criminal in her head, and feels his rough hand grabbing her and the all-too-familiar gun resting on the side of her head.

The sound of crashing wakes her from her horrible sleep. She’s sweating and panting, her mind trying to adjust to her surroundings and shake off the nightmare. She hears more startling noises from the room next to hers; she thought it was a part of her dream, but now realizes that it’s coming from Peter’s dorm. She sits up on the couch, one foot underneath her, the other flat on the ground as if she’s ready to flee. Wondering what is going on, she rubs her eyes, still not quite awake. Things go suddenly quiet and MJ holds in a breath trying to hear for more strange sounds. Faint moans and painful-sounding hisses through gritted teeth escape from the walls, and MJ can’t just ignore it anymore. If that's _Peter_ hurting, she will beat herself up forever if she doesn’t at _least_ make sure he’s okay. Checking her watch she sees it's 2 A.M. but damns proper neighbour etiquette and gets up, walking over to his dorm.

She knocks quietly against the wooden door labeled 416, looking around the building for any commotion or other people around; maybe there was a fight somewhere on campus, or a big party? She sees nothing. There’s a faint shuffling coming from the room, but Peter doesn’t come to the door. A few seconds later, she knocks harder.

“I know you’re in there, Peter,” she says a little too loudly for 2 in the morning, which makes her wince.

More quietness fills the air, but before she can knock again, she hears soft footsteps getting closer and closer, and he opens the door, his head peeking out from the crack as if hiding something  from her.

There’s a huge gash on his head and his right eye is covered in bruises. MJ wasn't really expecting it to be anything serious and was ready to apologize for being inconvenient and paranoid, but now her stomach sinks and worry spreads over her face immediately. There’s a cut on his lip which makes his speech sound muffled.

“Everything’s okay, Mary Ja--”

“What the _hell_ happened to you?!” She’s not using her indoor voice again. MJ opens the door completely and walks into his dorm without invitation. He’s in jeans and a battered, blood-stained T-shirt, making it clear the wounds don’t just end on his face.

She immediately storms over to the kitchen and grabs a cloth to dampen it, her feet stomping hard on the floor. He’s following behind her, taking in sharp breaths whenever he steps or moves the wrong way. MJ spins around and he’s right in front of her, catching her off guard. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she raises the cloth to his forehead where the gash is and gently cleans it up, despite her anger and worry. _So much for out of sight, out of mind._

“Well?” MJ says a little impatiently, dabbing the wound and getting rid of most of the blood, ignoring his flinching.

“Just wrong place at the wrong time. Getting Spidey pics, the usual. Honestly, Mary Jane, it’s nothing.”

She looks up at him skeptically, her eyes searching for something in his, but he stares back softly. MJ has always been pretty good at reading Peter and she can tell there’s something he’s not telling her. It’s not her place to press on it, though, so she keeps quiet.

“Yet _you_ get mad at _me_ for being in the heart of these fights?” She raises an eyebrow jokingly at him. She remembers being furious at him for that just a few days ago, but now she understands. Peter’s a worrier, but that won’t stop her from going out and getting the latest scoop. Just like how this won’t make Peter stop getting his photos. An occupational hazard they share.

“Spidey and I-- We have an agreement, and you just-- You need to be more careful,” he replies intensely, and MJ lowers her arm from his gash, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt to lift it up. He grabs her hands, preventing her from doing so, and she looks up at him disapprovingly.

“It needs to be cleaned,” she says with no patience. He could be even more stubborn than her sometimes.

“It’s nothing, Mary Jane. I promise.” He gives a really forced, goofy smile and it makes her laugh, just like in the days on the roof of their houses in Queens.

She rolls her eyes at him, a habit of hers, and turns around to start rummaging in his cupboards. Finally opening the correct one, she finds some ibuprofen and grabs it.

“At least take some of these?” She demands more than asks, handing him the bottle.

He nods at her. “Scout’s honour.”

There's the sound of buzzing, and Peter reaches in the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his mobile phone. He looks down at it, then up at MJ and makes a “one second” gesture with his hand.

He walks into his room and answers the call. MJ doesn' t want to eavesdrop, so she looks around at his apartment for a distraction. She's never actually been inside his dorm since they started university. She sees he must have left his race car sheets at home in Queens, as blue ones now cover his bed. The apartment isn’t nearly as cozy and nice as hers and Gwen’s, but she can see places where Gwen tried to spruce it up a bit, with neatly stacked books on the shelves and the curtain that covers the living room window. A nice photograph of Peter and May sits by the couch, a painting of the New York skyline hangs up on the wall in the kitchen, and a poster for a movie she's never heard of is framed just above the TV.

Despite trying to consume herself with anything else, she can hear it’s Gwen that Peter’s talking to. By the reassuring tone of his voice she can tell Gwen is worried. Peter tells her to not come back home, that everything is fine. Telling her again that she needs to stay in Boston, as it’s a great opportunity for her. Telling her a third time.

MJ suddenly feels ashamed. She knows what she was doing was completely innocent, she was just taking care of a friend when it looked like he really needed it, but she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t feel anything more than that. Disappointed in herself, she decides to just leave as abruptly as she entered. Without waiting for the phone call to end or saying goodbye to Peter, she walks out the front door and closes it behind her.

Entering her dorm and locking it on her way in, she decides to just go to bed. She tosses and turns unable to sleep, angry at herself. _I'm an idiot._ She tries to convince herself it meant nothing to her, that she just wanted to make sure he was okay and that she would've done it to any other friend. But as she replays it in her head, how upset she felt at Peter being so reckless to get himself hurt like that, how much she wanted to be the one to care for him and make him feel better, she knows that’s not true. Her phones beeps, and she stretches off  her bed to grab it from her bedside table.

_You didn’t have to leave._

_\- Peter._

Letting out a hard breath, she throws her phone across the room into a pile of laundry, and before she knows it, she’s asleep again.

Her dreams aren’t exactly nightmares this time, but they’re equally as unsettling. She's being restrained by the wild man, tied together with ropes. They’re on top of a building, and she's staring at him, her hair blowing with the wind. She doesn’t feel scared, just worried. Worried for Spider-Man, and all of a sudden, he’s there too.

“GET OUT OF HERE, MARY JANE!” Spider-Man screams at her, and while he does, Kraven punches him in the face, _hard_.

They’re brawling again like MJ saw on TV earlier that night. It’s not looking good here, either. Kraven is relentlessly punching Spider-Man, who's getting weaker and weaker with every second, his body going limp. Kraven has his hands around his neck, choking him, and Spider-Man can't do anything about it. MJ starts to panic, her hands shake and tears fill her eyes. She can’t let this happen. She won’t. She needs to stop this. She’s not quite sure what to do, and she is so overwhelmed she starts to scream at the top of her lungs. The high pitched wail starts to shatter all of the windows on the buildings surrounding them, and the ropes that bound her have now ripped to shreds.

This catches Kraven off guard, and he lets his grip of Spider-Man go, making him fall to the ground. The wild man staggers back a bit, cupping his ears and MJ lunges forward and protectively shields Spider-Man’s body from the man with her own. She looks from Kraven down at the beaten and battered hero, and let’s out a huge gasp when her eyes settle onto the face of Peter Parker. There's the gash on his forehead, the bruises already forming on his eye and the cut on his lip.

“ _You need to be more careful, Mary Jane,_ ” Peter says, echoing his words from earlier that night.

Bolting upright in bed, MJ gasps for air. She clutches the bed sheets tightly in her hands, sweat trickling down her temple. Her mind is running fast about the all too familiar way Spider-Man spoke to her that night at the subway station, and Peter appearing right after it. The constant worry Peter had for MJ. How Spider-Man stared at her in the heart of the fight. Peter's condition tonight.

_It can’t be._

Is Peter... _Spider-Man_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Graphic Description of Violence
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

It's early in the evening and Gwen and MJ are sitting side by side on the couch in the living room, classes having finished for the day. They’re watching another live broadcast of Spider-Man fighting a villain they didn't catch the name of. Gwen's been back from Boston for a couple of days and MJ has been trying to find out if there's anything in her demeanor that tips off any involvement with Spider-Man. Her eyes go from the TV to Gwen whenever Spidey takes a hit, or falls down, to see if the girl winces or gives any indication that she's more worried about him than one would normally be for a masked hero they've never met.

She feels silly to be sleuthing like this, but it's all she can think about ever since the night Peter came home bleeding and she had that dream about him. Peter being Spider-Man would explain why he suddenly changed so much back in high school; going from an awkward boy to a confident young man practically overnight. Also, his running off in the middle of conversations or bailing on plans as if he had more important and pressing things to do. It certainly would be less wounding. Not to mention his cuts and bruises that he refuses to get checked up that look too serious for someone who “accidentally” got caught in the middle of a fight for trying to take a couple of photographs. Or mostly how he's never seen when the battle is happening but conveniently shows up right after it ends with the best pictures of the event.

It's still a crazy thought, that nerdy Peter would be a superhero, and part of MJ feels stupid for even considering it, but she just _has_ to know for sure. Once this is all cleared up and proved that he isn't the wall-crawling guy saving New York over the past few months, she'll drop it, but for now she'll put her investigative skills to use.

Gwen is either very good at hiding it, or she really has no feelings for Spider-Man, because she is as nonchalant as ever about what's on TV. She makes a comment here and there about how wrong it is that the media is always against him when he's clearly only trying to do good, or about the ridiculousness of the villain of the week, but it never gets more personal than that.

Once the transmission ends, Gwen gets up from the couch and announces that she'll take a shower and call it a night, and MJ notices the other girl’s phone clutched tightly in her hand as she wanders to her room. Not proudly, MJ stands up and walks to the kitchen pretending to need something from there, lingering around Gwen’s door a little. She can hear her leaving Peter a worried voicemail, asking him to call her as soon as he can.

MJ hasn't seen Peter since she ran out on him the other night, but knows through Gwen that he's had to miss a few classes because he's been feeling under the weather, which only furthers her suspicions. Those gashes and bruises looked pretty bad, despite Peter saying he was fine, and they would make anyone have to take it easy for a few days.

She can see how draining it is on Gwen, and suddenly it feels like MJ’s duty to get Gwen’s mind off of everything. Partially because she still feels guilty for going over to Peter’s, but mostly because Gwen was the closest thing she has ever had to a girl friend.

They don’t hang out with each other outside of the dorm that often, but they spend a lot of their time together. Whether that be on the couch like they were just doing watching television (not that they could ever agree on a show), or studying, even cooking, Gwen has become a part of MJ’s life. So when she can obviously see Gwen hurting over-- whatever it was, she wants to do something about it.

When she hears the voicemail come to an end, she knocks on Gwen’s door and opens it after a second.

“Gwen, do you want to go out tonight? Let’s go to a club or get a drink or something, get our minds off of things, school and stuff…” MJ knows that it's a long-shot as Gwen isn’t much of a party girl, and she's already preparing herself for a no.

The blonde girl ponders it for a second and MJ is about to tell her to forget the idea when Gwen looks up right at her.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it!”

* * *

They both get ready together in Gwen’s room, as MJ’s is a little messy. She does Gwen’s makeup which Gwen was opposed to at first, but the way MJ makes Gwen’s blue eyes pop and her lips the nicest shade of pink makes her grateful afterwards. MJ gives herself a smokey eye and decides on some deep red lipstick that matches her hair.

The girls look through their clothes and MJ decides to model some of hers in a goofy way to try and make Gwen laugh, which works. Gwen also tries on a couple of different outfits and MJ makes a point to clap and "ooh" and "aah" at her, and the mood in the dorm feels lighter. Gwen finally picks out a pretty yellow dress that goes down to her knees, and MJ chooses a tight-fitting black one. They make their way to the front door and MJ grabs her black leather jacket while Gwen puts on a peacoat because it’s a cold autumn night in New York.

MJ has never gotten ready with a girl friend before, and it feels nice; like Gwen is more of a sister than her actual one that ran off all those years ago. By the look on Gwen’s face, she seems to be having a good time too, and MJ is proud that she can get Gwen’s mind off of her worries even if it’s just for a little while.

They take a taxi to a nearby bar close to the campus that kids from ESU normally go to. The security there isn’t the best, and MJ has always been good at flirting her way into places, so they manage to get in without having to show any ID even with both of the girls only being 18.

As they walk in, the difference between the girls' attitude is noticeable. MJ's steps are confident and she acts like she's at home, as she's been in places like these hundreds of times. Gwen at first looks like a deer in headlights and it takes a second for her to regain her composure. She’s definitely out of her element, but she easily covers it up once she finds her bearings. Just because she isn’t used to the atmosphere doesn’t mean she isn’t amazing with her social skills.

MJ guides herself and Gwen to the bar, and almost instantaneously a couple of guys make their way to them, asking if they can get them a drink. MJ can see Gwen shifting a little so MJ kindly declines, expressing how it’s just a girl’s night tonight. The boys are nice enough when they leave despite their disappointment.

They’re both sitting on stools at the bar and MJ orders a gin and tonic, Gwen saying she’ll have the same. They sip away on their drinks when it gets a little quiet between them. MJ realizes that outside of school and Spider-Man, they don't really have much to talk about. She knows from living together that they don't have much in common when it comes to things like cereal, clothes, TV shows… but then MJ’s mind wanders and realizes they actually do share something in the feelings department, but hates herself the minute she thinks about it.

Before she can stop herself or really think about what she's saying, she asks, “So, how are you and Peter?” The intention was to fill the awkward silence, but she regrets it immediately. Not only does she _not_ want to hear about it, this whole night was supposed to get Gwen’s mind off of him.

Gwen looks down and swirls her drink with the black straw inside of it. Something is clearly on her mind, and she doesn’t look entirely happy. She looks back up at MJ when she replies.

“We’re okay. We’re good. It’s just hard sometimes to -- you know -- with school and his job and all. I wish he would just… Be more careful.” Gwen’s voice is a little hard to hear it over the background music, but it sounds tired.

MJ is in too deep now and decides to try some more detective work. “I get it. But you know that he feels it’s his responsibility, right?”

It works. Gwen quickly looks at MJ, her brows slightly pulling downwards, but enough for MJ to notice. It probably means nothing, but a part of MJ wants to believe it does.

“You know, to take pictures and make the civilians of New York be on Spider-Man’s side,” she adds, making Gwen relax a little.

“Yeah, I just don’t see why… It has to be him.” Clearly, whether Peter is Spider-Man or just a photographer, it takes a toll on Gwen, and MJ feels bad for ever envying her thinking she had it all.

MJ scoots forward a little and places her hand on top of Gwen’s despite not being the touchy kind of person. She remembers that Gwen’s father was a police officer, always out in the heart of dangerous situations, and that he died while on the job not too long ago. It’s a lot for one girl to have to handle, especially with her boyfriend now doing the same.

“I can’t even imagine what you have to go through when he’s out there… Taking photos,” MJ says while looking at Gwen, “but it’s Peter. He will _always_ have you in the back of his mind and he will _always_ be careful. You know that, right? He may believe it’s his responsibility, but at the end of the day you know you and May mean so much to him. He will always be careful so he can come back home to you guys.”

MJ selfishly longs to be one of the people he worries about when he’s out there, but quickly shakes the thought out of her mind. She doesn’t know where the speech came from. MJ’s cheeks heat up and she feels embarrassed, like she's stepped over a line and it wasn't her place to say these things. Gwen looks at her so earnestly, though, and seems to appreciate her words.

“I guess you have a lot of experience with it too, with writing for the Bugle and always being in the center of it and all. I don’t know how you guys do it, I really don’t.” She sighs and closes her eyes. MJ feels awful at the state of her, and she does what she knows best, which probably isn’t the greatest solution.

“Two shots of tequila, please!” MJ says to the bartender.

That gets Gwen to open her eyes and quizzically raise an eyebrow.

“We’re gonna get rid of all of our worries, even if it’s just for tonight,” MJ says to Gwen with a huge smile that, after a second, Gwen returns.

“You’re crazy." She sighs and hesitates for a second, but adds, "Yeah, let’s go for it," slamming her hands down on the counter. “Let’s do it!”

About four shots later, Gwen is giggling uncontrollably, which makes MJ laugh till her stomach hurts. What they're laughing at to begin with was about how a piece of Peter’s hair always tends to stick up unruly, defying gravity no matter what. Gwen nearly falls off of her stool and MJ has to stable her, which in turns makes them laugh even harder.

The fits of giggles die down eventually, and Gwen slumps over, her elbow on the ba and her head resting on the palm of her hand.

“I’m really glad I met you, MJ. You’re -- hicc -- like my best friend.” Gwen is definitely past the stage of tipsy. MJ has learned to control her liquor a little better over the years and she can recognize someone who hasn't. She knows it’s probably the alcohol talking, but Gwen’s words really mean a lot to her.

“Right back at you, Gwendolyn.” MJ returns, smiling. It feels really nice. So much so that she instantly knows she’ll try everything in her power to bury her feelings for Peter Parker as deep as she can so she doesn’t jeopardize this blossoming connection with Gwen. It’s going to be hard, but as she looks to the too-red-faced Gwen opening up to her like this, she feels it’ll be worth it.

A catchy pop tune booms over the bar, and MJ can see Gwen mumbling along to it through sips of her drink.

"It's a love story, baby just say yes!" MJ blurts out, singing along, almost startling Gwen out of her stool. She recovers quick enough though, and starts to sing along with MJ. Now they're both in unison singing awfully along to the lyrics.

"ROMEO TAKE ME SOMEWHERE WE CAN BE ALONE," They're both smiling from ear to ear and MJ grabs Gwen's hand and drags her to the dance floor where there’s not a single person.

Gwen feels silly being the only people up there, it's obvious, but as soon as she sees the ridiculous moves MJ is trying to pass up as a dance, she doesn’t care. She joins in, tossing her hair back and forth, grabbing MJ’s hands as they sing, terribly, along to the song. MJ can’t remember the last time she’s had this much fun with a friend.

Soon after that, the rest of the bar takes the sight of the two dancing as an invitation, and the floor eventually gets filled. They’re getting sweaty and out of breath, but they don’t stop dancing.

After a few songs, a couple of unwanted advances, and one too many drinks, MJ decides it’s time to get back to their dorms as she has an early day tomorrow to give Mr. Jameson her latest article. The two girls decide to walk back to the university, as it isn’t too far and the fresh air will probably do them well. By the time they’re back, Gwen’s arm is draped over MJ’s shoulders and she's almost passed out, which makes MJ have to practically drag her.

After some struggle, they make it to the building, MJ trying not to laugh at how uncoordinated she is trying to carry Gwen around. The elevator dings and MJ half walks/half pulls Gwen along the corridor. She fumbles through her purse collecting her keys when the door next to theirs opens.

“Mary Jane?!” It’s Peter. He must have heard her bumping into every available surface getting Gwen across the hall.

“Uh… Hey... Tiger.” She looks at him, then at Gwen, then back to Peter, unsure if she should be trying to explain the situation, make a joke, or run for the hills.

“What on earth…?” He sounds a little worried at first, but his mind clicks, making some sort of connection and then it looks like he’s about to laugh. He grabs Gwen’s other arm and wraps it around his neck and picks her up effortlessly.

 _Thank God_. Gwen may look small, but she is extremely heavy and MJ's arms were about to give. Maybe MJ is a little too weak, or maybe she just can't lug around a fully grown woman for several blocks after a night of partying but, either way, _ouch_. She unlocks the door as Peter holds Gwen behind her, and once MJ has it open, she lets him go first.

“So? Am I allowed to know what happened? Or is this a girl thing?” he asks with humour in his voice as they all make their way to Gwen’s room.

He lays her down gently on her bed and tucks her under the covers while MJ takes off Gwen’s  high heels.

“We were just out, having a good time. Gwen had a little too much fun, I think.” MJ replies as she puts Gwen's shoes away.

“I… mmp.. Loff you guys...” Gwen tells the both of them before she yawns and passes out again. MJ and Peter stand there for a second and turn their heads to look at each other at the same time, bursting into laughter, trying to muffle it behind their hands.

He bends down to give Gwen a kiss and takes a moment to sweetly run the back of his hand on her cheek, which makes MJ’s stomach clench and it sobers her up from the laughter and the alcohol. Her jealousy mixed with about a hundred other negative feelings about this whole situation makes her feel guilty as it always does, so she turns around and exits the room to give them privacy. Walking to the fridge, she opens it and grabs the milk carton and serves herself when Peter appears from Gwen’s room.

“Who drinks milk at... “ He checks his watch, “1:52 A.M.?” He teases her.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” MJ says, and starts to pour him a glass.

MJ hands it over to him, and he narrows his eyes mockingly, but takes it and drinks a little. He smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth a couple times, as if he were wine-tasting, or something.

“Yeah, still pretty weird.”  He finally says before taking another sip, and MJ glares at him.

“You definitely look better since the last time I saw you,” she says to him as she puts back the milk carton into the fridge. His bruising has gone down to a soft yellow colour and the cuts on his forehead and lip are almost fully healed. “It’s almost like you have superhuman healing or something!” She quickly glances at him.

Peter chokes for half a second on the milk that he just attempted to swallow, and MJ catches it, but doesn't say anything. She sucks her lips into her mouth to prevent from smiling while he clears his throat.

“Good genes, I guess.” He tries to laugh but it comes out more of a cough.

MJ decides not to press it, partly because she has a feeling Peter would shut down and run away, but mostly because she's exhausted and just wants to sleep. There'll be plenty of time to work on her suspicions when there's light outside, and a headache isn't threatening to come out from the spot right between her eyes. She needs to get some sleep if she has any chance at waking up in time for the Bugle tomorrow.

"Well, I'm beat, so..." she says, and Peter visibly unclenches his jaw and relaxes his shoulders, seemingly glad for the change of subject.

"I'll get out of here," he smiles warmly, tapping the counter. MJ walks him to the door.

"Good night, Pete."

"'Night, nerd." Peter says, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on MJ's forehead."You two drink lots of water tomorrow, it'll help with the hangover." He smiles as he walks next door and enters his dorm.

MJ barely hears what he had said, too focused on feeling the heat of his lips lingering on her skin.

* * *

The next day, the girls have a miserable morning, filled with cursing the sunlight, the noises in the building, and everything that's not their warm, cozy beds. The only good thing that came out of last night was it has definitely made MJ and Gwen closer already, and neither feels like they have to tiptoe around, or be polite just for the sake of it anymore.

MJ has to hand in another article to Jameson later this morning, so she tries her best to look presentable while still comfortable enough to try and deal with whatever process her body is going through. It definitely needs some time to get itself back up and running after a night out.

With a huge yawn, MJ puts her hair into a ponytail as neatly as she can and decides on some black leggings and a comfy sweater. She looks into the mirror at her makeup-less face and for the first time in forever, doesn’t exactly hate what she sees. Smiling to herself, MJ grabs her huge purse, big enough to contain her papers and laptop, and places the strap over her shoulder.

“I’m heading out now,” MJ announces to Gwen, who is on the couch with a pillow over her face, groaning. “Don’t forget to drink a lot of water,” MJ adds while laughing.

Gwen lets out a barely audible moan beneath the cushion as a reply and raises a thumbs up, which MJ assumes is for good luck, and she steps out the door.

The streets of New York are still hectic as usual, but there’s a different demeanor about the people in it, like they’re even more in a rush to get to where they need to be. They don’t want to spend a minute longer in the streets than they have to. The attacks on Spider-Man have become more frequent lately, and despite the excitement they bring, nobody wants to get caught in the crossfire.

Entering the familiar office of the Bugle that smells of coffee and paper, MJ is greeted with a smile from Betty. Her usual drop-offs and pick-ups for the articles and cheques go through her now, and she doesn’t really see much of Mr. Jameson himself anymore. Today, though, Betty tells MJ that he is expecting her, and to head right on into his office.

MJ hesitates a little, bracing herself for what this could be about. She unintentionally starts to bite the insides of her cheeks, a nasty nervous habit she’s had since childhood, and slowly makes her way into his office. She gently knocks on the door before entering. Over the last several weeks she has written him a handful of articles that she’s really proud of, and she really hopes he isn’t firing her.

“MJ,” Mr. Jameson booms, clearly finally knowing her name, something that almost surprises her more than what she’s about to hear. “You’re getting quite the buzz around here. Quite the buzz indeed. The people of New York are enjoying your articles! Despite them being, well, boring.”

Her brow furrows a little, indignantly. They’re only boring because _he_ gives her boring topics to write news articles on. At first it was small crimes around the city, which could be somewhat exciting depending on what had happened, but lately he’s had her writing about the sidewalk renovations around Penn Station, the new colour of the lights for this year’s local deli’s Christmas tree, the opening of a new pet shop across town specialized in reptiles and other equally boring things. Nonetheless, people are enjoying her section and this makes MJ beam after realizing.

“I want you to do our next front page news piece,” He’s nearly yelling at her, almost excitedly, though part of her jokingly doubts he is able to experience any emotions that don’t involve some level of annoyance. “I had to fire Tony.. Terry… Whatever his name was, because he was getting too big headed! Now you. You seem like you’d be appreciative of the honour that is writing such an important piece for the greatest American newspaper of all time.” MJ holds in a chortle at that. Boy, was he something. “I’m counting on you. What do you say?”

MJ wonders if Jameson offering her the job because he thinks she is easy to manipulate into writing what he wants to see, or because of her hard work and talent. Either way, MJ’s mouth nearly falls open at the invitation. This is her shot to prove that she is meant to be here, to do this. Except now, it’s like she forgot how to speak.

“You can answer any time,” Jameson states impatiently after MJ doesn’t respond for a few seconds.

“Yes. Yes, definitely!” She blurts out. She wants to look professional and composed, but she just can’t contain the huge grin on her face. Maybe it’s her naive, wide-eyed girl disposition that makes Jameson think he can slip one over her, but she knows more than anyone how stubborn she can be, and how she will not take anything less than what she deserves when it comes down to it.

“Good. Get me something for next week on the Web Head or any other villain this week. Now get out of my office!” He shouts. Despite the dig, MJ can feel this stresscase growing on her.

After she leaves the Bugle, still buzzing from the news, she takes a bus across town to get home and passes by the infamous Oscorp Tower. Seeing the sky-high building makes her miss Harry. They haven’t seen much of each other since they moved to the city, and their last encounter wasn’t exactly the _best_ one. She misses his friendship, and really wants to be involved in his life again. She has been feeling like sharing her highs with someone for awhile now, and suddenly she thinks they could maybe be shared with Harry. It would be nice to have someone to gush about what just happened at the Bugle with, so she decides to call him.

MJ waits until the end of the day to phone Harry, figuring he’d be busy during the day with whatever it is he does at Oscorp. She should really ask him sometime. She knows he’s going to inherit the company when Mr. Osborn retires, and that Harry has to learn how to run it, but she’s never understood exactly what it is that he has to know that takes so much time and prevents him from even going to college.

When she gets home she glances at the clock and sees it’s 5:30 P.M. and decides it’s late enough to call. Picking up her cell phone, MJ taps Harry’s name into her contacts list and it starts to ring on the other end.

“MJ?” Harry picks up almost immediately.

“Yeah, hi, Harry,” MJ replies a little nervously. “How are you? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.”

“I’m okay, just busy, as usual. You know how it is.”

There’s a pause in the conversation that makes MJ wonder if calling him was a bad idea, but she decides to just go for it.

“Too busy for a movie night with an old friend and to congratulate her on getting her first big headline article for the front page of the Daily Bugle?” She couldn’t keep it in any longer. She needed to tell somebody, and his reaction doesn’t disappoint. He is very congratulatory and maybe a little too excited for her, (probably for her benefit), saying a lot of “I knew its” and “I’m so proud of yous,” but MJ decides to just soak it in and accept the compliments for once instead of trying to rebuke them as she often did.

He then says he would love to hang out, and they agree on staying in tonight at MJ’s dorm, since he hasn’t actually seen it and she doesn’t feel like going out. Last night was definitely enough for a while. She also wants this to be an opportunity to catch up and talk and become closer again.

Harry arrives at 8 P.M. sharp, and he isn’t in a suit and tie like MJ was expecting. He’s wearing jeans, a dark sweater and sneakers. His hair isn’t slicked back with hair gel like it normally is either, it looks like it’s fresh out of the shower instead. He looks a lot like the Harry MJ first met, and it makes her feel a little more relaxed.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” MJ teases when she opens the door, and Harry smiles, opening his arms and welcoming her into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“So this is where you live, huh?” Harry says as he enters the dorm, MJ closing the door behind them.

“Yep, this is where the magic happens. And by magic I mean me stumbling around trying to put on both shoes at the same time while simultaneously running out the door in the morning so I won’t be late for my classes,” she replies, getting a laugh out of Harry.

MJ walks over to the couch and sits down, Harry following and sitting right next to her.

“You know, I thought this place would be a lot messier, ” he glances at MJ, it clearly being a harmless joke at her expense. MJ half-heartedly smacks him on the arm in mock offence.

“Yeah, well, Gwen has been a bad influence on me. I even organize my shoes by colour now.”

“So, where is Gwen?” Harry asks, looking around the dorm.

“She’s out with Peter. Date night.”

After she says that, something odd happens. It’s like Harry is studying her face after the mention of Peter, trying gauge her reaction at his name. MJ tells herself she just imagined it but decides to change the subject nonetheless.

“Do you want anything to drink? We have water. Milk. And... Some more water,” she offers him. MJ’s not much of a host, and she feels bad for not having thought to pick something up beforehand.

“I actually brought us some champagne. A good guest never comes empty handed, and we need to celebrate you writing your first big headline news article.” Harry says while rummaging into his messenger bag for the bottle.

“Harry! You shouldn’t have,” MJ exclaims. She’s not really in the mood for more alcohol, but it _is_ a special occasion, and she figures she can make the effort. She gets up and grabs two mugs from the kitchen cupboard for them to drink from, as the thought really was nice and it’d be a shame to let a bottle of champagne go to waste.

The movie is forgotten, as it turns out, both of them too immersed in their conversation to remember it, and it starts to feel like how it did back in high school. Back when they had movie nights every week that usually turned into an all-nighter of talking and laughing instead, but minus Peter.

Harry had always been the most serious one between the three of them, so watching him drink his expensive champagne from a mug with a funny cat on it makes MJ smile.

They talk about their lives, how things are going at Oscorp, complete with a thorough explanation of the several different departments Harry will be in charge of soon. They talk about MJ’s school and her articles in the Daily Bugle. Harry tells MJ that he has his assistant collect all of them so he can read her work after his busy days, and MJ blushes. Now that MJ thinks about it, Harry _has_ been pretty smooth all night.

They don’t drink so much as to impair their judgement, just enough that they’re feeling a little looser than they were at the beginning of the night. Their limbs are sprawled out on the cushions, with their legs touching and heads resting on the back of the couch. They’re laughing about some old high school story MJ was telling and when she moves to place her hand down after setting her cup on the coffee table, it lands on Harry’s thigh. They both freeze for a second, but Harry doesn’t complain, and surprising herself, MJ doesn’t move her hand. The closeness is making her feel light-headed despite only having one cup of champagne. The air gets a little heavier between them which makes it harder to look Harry in the eye, but she doesn’t look away.

Something inside of MJ tells her that this moment, whatever happens next, will change everything their relationship has ever been. She starts to feel butterflies in her stomach just as she did on their prom night when Harry picked her up in his fancy tux and limo.

Harry is staring at her with intense and expectant eyes. He raises his hand and runs his fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek in his hand as if asking for permission. Without allowing herself to think about it, she bites her lip, gives a slight nod, and their lips meet.

He moves his free hand and places it on the other side of MJ’s face, her hands slide up his torso to wrap around his neck. He bends forward, making her lean back onto the couch, Harry hovering on top of her.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that,” Harry breathlessly admits, reminding her when she kissed him what feels like forever ago. They continue to kiss.

It feels... _good_. He smells amazing and he feels really nice against her, his weight a welcome pressure on her body. But her mind starts running despite her. This is her friend Harry. _Harry_. MJ never really thought of him as more than that before, but she can feel herself start to wonder what the two of them together would be like. He moves to kiss down her neck, and MJ starts to get a little nervous, not wanting this to go too fast.

Closing her eyes, she lets herself give in to him for a moment longer before stopping the kiss, sitting back up on the couch.

“Is something wrong?” Harry asks, looking confused and slightly hurt.

MJ thinks hard about what she’s going to say, not wanting to ruin things, or upset Harry. Sweet, thoughtful Harry.

“No, not at all. It’s just...” She sighs, hating to be that cliché who needs _The Talk_ , but she knows she needs this to be very clear in front of her. “What are we doing?” MJ finally just gets on with it.

She looks at him with earnest eyes, wanting him to understand. If they’re going to do this, she needs to know it’s real; he’s too precious of a friend to throw away in a one-night stand.

“I don’t want things to get weird between us.” She looks down, a little ashamed.

Harry straightens up, slightly pulling away from MJ, but taking her hand in his, which makes MJ look back up at him.

“If you don’t want to do this, it’s okay. And if you want to take things slowly, we can do that. But I want you, MJ. I would never force you into anything you’re not comfortable with, but I want you and I have for a long time.” he says, fearlessly.

Hearing someone say they want her with such passion moves something deep in MJ’s stomach. She’s been taking care of herself and making it on her own for a long time now, and has been slowly moving away from the insecure little girl she used to be, but a part of her still wants to be needed like that. There have been plenty of guys over the years making her feel desired, but that’s never lasted for more than a night. And it’s never felt genuine until now.

MJ looks down at Harry’s large hands holding hers. They’re nice and warm in her always too-cold ones. It feels good to be wanted like this. Not just for some selfish reason, but because he wants to make her happy, too. She trusts Harry, and she knows that he won’t hurt her, so she decides to give this a chance. To go into the unknown with him, a place she never considered before. To hopefully get over...

“You’re gonna have to take me out first, then,” she jokes, breaking the tension in the room. The decision feels comfortable. Not exactly like she’s jumping off a cliff, the fear of the unknown and adrenaline coursing through her body making her breath catch like how she thought relationships would be. But MJ never really believed in fairytales.

“Really? Yes. Yeah! Definitely. Maybe next week? Is that good for you?” Harry barely gets out. It wasn’t very often that MJ saw him flustered, he’s usually so well put together in every single way, so it’s nice to see this side of him. It reminds her he’s just a teenage boy. She leans into him to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Sounds like a date.” MJ whispers in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Alcohol Mention/Consumption
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

MJ doesn’t wake up until later on in the morning the next day. Coupled with her not having anywhere exactly to be today, and the nice evening with Harry last night, her mind is more at ease, allowing her to escape the nightmares she often has.

She groggily rubs her eye, a little disorientated from the deep sleep. Swinging her legs over her bed, she puts on her fuzzy cat slippers, making her way to the kitchen.

“ _Good morning, good mor-ning_!” Peter sings to the tune of “Singin’ in the Rain” from the kitchen table. He’s sitting next to Gwen who’s reading the paper.

“ _Ahh_!” MJ screams, embarrassed at being only in PJ shorts and a very small tank top that may as well have been labeled “a slightly longer bra”. When it’s just her and Gwen it’s fine, but she definitely wasn’t prepared to see _Peter_ in her kitchen. He’s been popping up out of nowhere more often than ditching them without notice lately.

She runs back into her room to get a sweatshirt to cover herself up before joining the two for breakfast.

“A heads up you were here would’ve been nice, you know,” She barks while walking back into the kitchen. She pours herself some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and milk into a bowl.

“Good of you to join the living,” Peter teases, Gwen smacking him on the arm. “We thought you’d drown yourself in that giant pile of blankets you have, I was about to call for help.”

MJ shuffles in her slippers over to the table to sit down with them. “Your boyfriend’s an idiot.” MJ states to Gwen, mouth full of cereal.

“Well, he _was_ only second best in Midtown if I recall correctly,” Gwen gloats jokingly while grabbing Peter’s hand that was resting on the table.

“Alright, I get it, you guys are freakishly smart,” MJ banters.

Gwen gives a kind laugh and goes back to reading the paper, and seeing it makes MJ all too aware of the big news she got yesterday. She’d been thinking about what to write, and the only logical thing would be a piece on Spider-Man; he’s still the biggest thing happening in the city, and he’s the biggest seller of newspapers -- she’s heard the entire Bugle staff say so. The only problem is to figure out how to write a front-page worthy article on him. Last time she followed him around, she nearly died.

Looking up from her bowl, she locks eyes with Peter from across the table. He tilts his head like a confused dog, but maintains eye contact with her and MJ squints at him a little. She hasn’t forgotten about her suspicions and develops a plan in her head.

“So...” MJ starts, wiping the milk from her mouth with the back of her hand, waiting for their attention. “Uhm… My neurotic boss may have sort of kind of given me a promotion. I’ll be writing the next front page news piece for the Bugle.”

“Oh my God, that’s fantastic!” Gwen squeals, flinging her arms over MJ to give her a hug. “Congratulations!”

Peter gives a big smile, and lets the girls have a moment before saying, “Finally wore down ol’ JJJ, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah... Hey, Pete,” MJ continues, “You know Spider-Man, right? You guys have an ‘understanding’?” MJ quotes Peter from long ago, and the smile from his face deflates, a humorous but skeptical one replacing it in his expression.

“I -- uh -- yeah, I suppose so.” He stammers, looking down to busy himself by swirling his coffee with a spoon. Gwen’s knuckles are white, holding Peter’s hand a little too tightly.

“Is there any way you can… I don’t know… Arrange a meeting with him for me? I mean, it would be a great opportunity to actually interview him and understand his point of view. I can give the world the truth on Spider-Man! It would be a piece of a lifetime,” MJ says insistently, staring at the two of them who are looking very uncomfortable.

“I don’t--” Peter starts to speak, but MJ cuts him off.

“Come on, Pete! This could be my big break! All I’m asking is for you to give him the word. He can decide for himself whether or not he wants to give me a second of his time. Just make him know that I’m not like the Jamesons of the world,” she pleads.

Without replying, Peter gets up from the table and starts to wash the dishes him and Gwen made earlier that morning. MJ can only see the back of his head but she knows there’s an inner battle happening inside of it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally says, and Gwen’s head snap towards him. Her eyes go a little bigger and, trying to cover the reflex, she puts her focus into the paper again.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” MJ cries excitedly and gets up, hugging him from behind. “You won’t regret this.”

* * *

A couple of days later, Peter tells MJ that Spider-Man has agreed to the interview with her. He’s asked her to meet him at the top of her dorm room’s building the following afternoon. MJ was more than ecstatic, immediately imagining Jameson calling her into his office to confess she’s changed his mind on the Web Head and that he’s giving her a full-time job as a writer, and her marching up to her creepy boss at the diner telling him to shove it as she quits.

On the day of their meeting, MJ can’t focus on anything. She’d been up until 5 A.M. the night before thinking of good questions to ask him and feels like she’s been plugged into an electric socket.

After her morning classes, MJ goes back to her dorm and alternates between pacing around, rearranging the furniture, and organizing her clothes to get some of her nervous energy out. She starts to consider the possibility of Peter really being Spider-Man and what that would mean to all of them. It would explain so much and, yet, it seems too impossible to be true.

After nearly going over to Peter’s dorm to change his furniture as well, MJ decides to head up to the roof and wait for Spider-Man there instead. She makes sure to take her fully charged phone so she can record the interview on it, wanting to have the full audio for when she’s actually writing the article, lest she forgets anything he said.

There’s not really anywhere to sit up on the roof, so she rests her elbows on the ledge and looks out into the city that never sleeps. It’s not often that she gets to see it from above, and it always takes her breath away when she does. It’s late in the afternoon and the sky is tinted red, orange and yellow, and the building is tall enough that she can see the shadows of the constructions around making abstract designs on the asphalt.

“I wouldn’t lean in too far. It’s a pretty big fall from up here,” a voice says from behind her, and MJ nearly _does_ fall when she hears it. Turning around, she sees Spider-Man on the roof, a few meters away.

Now that she’s seeing him in person in a non-life-threatening position and can really _look_ at him, she notices he seems more slender than she’d imagined he would be. MJ had always thought superheroes to be larger than life and untouchable, but Spider-Man seems to be no more than a normal kid, no superhuman muscles threatening to burst out of his suit or imposing disposition when he stands. He’s currently kicking a bit of gravel with his… boot? Shoe? It’s hard to tell with the way his outfit seems to be seamlessly one-pieced. It seems like he’s just as nervous as she is.

“Thank you for doing this, really, it means a lot to me,” MJ starts, and gets her phone ready to start the recording.

“No problem. You’re helping me out too, you know,” Spider-Man replies, and MJ can tell he doesn’t sound like a complete grown up, but it’s hard to notice anything else with the way his mask muffles his voice. “It’s important for your friendly neighbourhood superhero to know the top media movers and shakers.”

“Oh, but I’m not a top anything,” MJ corrects him.

“Not yet.”

The words linger in the air and MJ has the urge to blush, but wills herself to be more professional than that.

As if sensing her nervousness, he continues. “It’ll be great to get an unbiased source that will spread the truth about me for once. So, what made you want to be a journalist?”

MJ cocks her head to the side. “Last time I checked, _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be asking _you_ questions.”

“Right, right. That’s how it works. Well, _shoot_.” Spider-Man says, obviously pretty pleased with his subpar pun, and MJ can nearly hear the “Get it? Shoot? Webbing?” he’s about to say in the air, but decides to start the interview before any more quips can happen.

“Okay, so--” Before MJ can start her question, Spider-Man’s head snaps to his left, looking out into the city urgently, her gaze following but unable to see anything. Almost instantly afterwards, there’s a large crash followed by horrible screams that send chills all the way down her spine.

He looks back to MJ, hands clenched tight. Staring at her for what seems like forever as if he’s debating something in his head, he strides towards her. He makes his way in three long steps, and catching her off guard, his arm wraps around her waist.

“Hang on tight.” His voice is deep, his mouth next to her ear.

All of a sudden, it feels like MJ has left her stomach behind on the rooftop as she is lifted into the sky, breathing in quickly and feeling her legs dangle below her. The rush consumes her entire body and she tries to make sense of what’s happening. She is flying. She is actually _flying_. The butterflies soon aren’t her focus any longer as she watches hers and Spider-Man’s reflection dance and race across the mirrored skyscrapers. It’s almost like magic.

Her eyes are watering from the wind caused by the speed of the swinging, but she doesn’t want to close them for a second. She wants to soak this sensation all the way in.

Above all the taxi cabs and streets below, it’s oddly quiet up here. it reminds her of the time spent with Peter on the roof of their old house. How everything then seemed simpler, cleaner, easier than all of this. She looks up to the face of the man she’s clutching on to, obviously not being able to read his expression, but being amazed at what actually is happening right now. She wonders if he still marvels at this feeling, or if he’s grown used to it by now. MJ is so enamored that she nearly forgets the destruction they are swinging over to.

MJ almost feels disappointed as her feet reconnect with the earth as Spider-Man lands them down on another rooftop closer to the scene.

“You stay here,” Spider-Man says exigently as he swings off again into the disaster.

Moments pass and MJ is still just standing on top of this building, stunned at what just happened. She snaps out of it and fumbles in her purse for her phone, collecting it and opening the camera app, recording a video of herself.

“This is -- This --” She is still very shaken, but takes in a deep breath, finding her composure. “This is Mary Jane Watson with the exclusive breaking news for The Daily Bugle. Manhattan has just been attacked. The source of the attack is currently unknown.”

MJ slides the device into the back pocket of her jeans and races towards the exit on the roof. She’s sprinting as fast as she can down the spiral staircase, her feet already begging for her to stop. Finally, she bursts through the doors of the building on the main level and runs out into the street. She stops, looking left and right, finding which way Spider-Man went, and she continues racing towards the smoke, assuming that’s where the scene lies.

Catching up to the superhero, she also sees what seems to be… Some sort of sandstorm, right in the middle of the street. She inches forward to see the fight better.

“I am here in Midtown, the heart of the scene, and Spider-Man is currently battling… What seems to look like a man, but he consists entirely of… Sand? This could potentially be the exclusive of the year,” MJ enunciates to her phone while recording the action.

She sees Spider-Man backflip towards her while his opponent has been taken aback momentarily, and grabs her swiftly, slinging them behind a turned over car.

“You want a story? Stay here. Stay Safe. Stay alive so you can report it.” Spider-Man is inches from her face and the words sound protective. He swings towards the menace again now that MJ is further back.

The blaring of sirens fill the air mixing with the screaming and crashing, as the police are on their way. MJ runs towards another barricade to hide herself from them so they don’t force her to leave the crime scene.

Once they arrive, they get out of their vehicles and start aiming for Spidey and the sand man. This catches the latter’s attention, which aggravates him even more, and he grabs a car and hurls it at the policemen.

Spider-Man steps away from the fight and releases his webbing all around the car as a protective net, and the vehicle hovers in the air now, prevented from landing on the cops.

MJ raises her phone to her lips. “Some call Spider-Man a menace, but from what I’ve just witnessed here, he is a hero that just saved innocent people from the real monster.”

The fight is getting more intense, and MJ is trying to capture everything that she can with her phone. In the blink of an eye, the man made of sand backs away from Spider-Man and, as if by a spell, grows to the size of a three-story building.

The few people that were still around, including a couple of reporters, run for cover while the police starts firing relentlessly at the villain, but the bullets are ineffective against the wall of sand.

Spider-Man also seems to be having a hard time defeating the sand man, as his web won’t adhere to him and his punches just go right through him. Thinking fast, he tries to lure the man away from the busiest places of the neighbourhood where there are less things to be thrown around and less people to get hurt.

The police have now called for backup and MJ can hear the sound of helicopters above, and the sirens of fire trucks approaching, and that gives her an idea.

Moving through the streets by hiding behind cars and industrial-sized dumpsters, she makes her way to where Spider-Man and the Sandman are fighting. Spidey is taking an obvious beating and running out of options to stop his opponent, and she crouches down leaning against a concrete wall that protects her from the fight. MJ looks around her, trying to locate what she needs to help.

She sees a hydrant just by where Spider-Man is, which is exactly what she wants. When the fire trucks arrive, MJ makes a run for it and only stops right in front of Sandman, her cell phone in hand, recording everything in front of her.

“HEY, YOU!” MJ screams as loud as she can. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you about exfoliation? Because it looks like you really need it!”

“Mary Jane, what the hell are you doing?!” She hears Spider-Man yell desperately from behind her, and the Sandman is confused for a minute, not knowing where to look or who to aim at.

“The hydrant, go! I’ll distract him!” MJ yells as she points to it, and something seems to click in Spider-Man. Within a few seconds he’s gone and comes back shortly after with the hose from the fire truck attached to the hydrant. MJ is still trying to distract the villain, spewing out any lame disses she can think of, when Spider-Man shouts for her to get out of the way. Sprinting across the street, she finds a large piece of rubble to hide behind. As soon as she’s far enough, Spider-Man sprays the strong jet of water on Sandman, who starts to turn into mud and slowly melts into the pavement. The screams that escape from the Sandman are deep and agonising.

The strange mud-like substance takes over the streets like a flood, sucking everything into it like quicksand. MJ gets stranded, the level of the mud raising, so she runs to an alleyway to a pickup truck. She hoists herself on top of it, trying to find a way to get out this mess.

The grime then starts slowly moving away from the scene as if it’s scarcely alive, escaping through drains and manholes; retreating under the city. MJ figures it’s best to wait until it’s entirely gone before jumping off into the street. She starts to check the footage on her phone, and that’s when she hears her name being called from a distance. She can’t see who’s calling her or where the voice is coming from, but it gets closer and closer, and it sounds more frantic by the second.

“Mary Jane! Oh no, please. Please, please please... Mary Jane, where are you?! MARY JANE?!”

“Spider-Man?” MJ realizes suddenly. “I’m over here! By the green building!”

Spider-Man sees her and swings to the top of the truck she’s standing on, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her up and down, as if searching for any injuries.

“Are you okay?! I thought you were under all of that mud!” he breathes out. “I was so worried...”

That catches MJ off guard and her brow furrows at him, a feeling of recognition bubbling in her stomach, but he interrupts her.

“I mean, I was worried about you as a citizen of New York and -- uhm… You’re Peter’s friend! And he wouldn’t forgive me if I let anything happen to you, is all,” Spider-Man finishes, self-consciously scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” MJ says, her eyes looking the hero up and down now, not convinced.

He wraps his arms around her again, and swings them back to MJ’s dorm building before the police can find them. She doesn’t think she could ever get sick of the sensation of flying, and takes it all in as it may be the last time she ever gets to.

They arrive to the top of the building, and they both stand on the roof in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say after what they’ve been through.

“Thanks for your help. With the hydrant and all. That was _smart_. I mean… You’re kind of crazy and all. Nobody in their right mind would run up to that moody sand castle and tell him to _exfoliate_. But it was smart.” Spider-Man lightly punches MJ’s arm as a playful sign, which in turn makes her laugh.

She looks up at him with a big grin on her face and tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I really hope you don’t take flying through the city for granted. That’s really something.” MJ admits. Talking to him is easy and she doesn’t feel nervous like she did when she first saw him.

“We’ll just have to do it again sometime.” Spider-Man says, flinching a little afterwards and clearing his throat.  “So… I should probably go,” he adds.

“Oh, okay. Yeah. Other people to save and all.” MJ replies.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do your interview.” It genuinely sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, I think I have a lot to work with now. Just… Can I ask you one thing before you, you know, swing off into the distance?” She asks.

“Of course.”

“What’s your favourite movie?”

“That’s an easy one: _Singin’ in the Rain_.”

* * *

MJ is almost in a dream state while she walks down to her dorm room, wondering if anything will ever be able to top what just happened to her today. The flying. Talking smack to a total baddie while actually contributing when it came to taking him down. _Spider-Man._

She smiles and bites her lip, when she feels buzzing from her phone in her pocket.

There are 17 missed calls from Harry and 6 texts. _Crap_ … In the excitement from today she completely forgot to tell him everything that was going on. Is she his girlfriend now? MJ thinks she is, and she feels awful for completely forgetting about him, and neglecting to let him know she was putting herself in another life threatening position, and that she’s made it out alive. That is what a good, thoughtful girlfriend would do, but she completely spaced, only having one thing on her mind. The adrenaline is now wearing off and she is exhausted, so she tells herself she’ll worry about it later, and twists the doorknob on her dorm room door and enters.

Harry’s sitting at her kitchen table in one of his expensive suits, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He looks upset. _Shit_. Hearing MJ shuffle in, Harry looks at her with an unreadable expression as he stands up and makes his way to her in a few long strides.

“Do you even realize how worried I was?!” He doesn’t sound angry, just... anxious. And tired.

He pulls her into a hug, which only makes MJ feel worse. He stayed up all night worried about her, and came all the way down here to check if she was okay… And she was going to _wait_ until the next day to even call him. The thing that makes her feel like she’s completely unworthy of this caring guy, is that she didn’t even think about Harry when she was in danger. Not once. Maybe that’ll take time, she hopes.

MJ’s arms hesitate for too long, so she wraps them around him as soon as she notices. To reassure herself, she chalks it up to her not relying on anybody for so long, not really knowing what the right etiquette is when you have someone there for you. It’ll take some getting used to.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, just… Give me a heads up when you decide to report on weird super villains. I could have made it safer for you.”

“Being safe isn’t how you get the news,” She blurts out, but then she realizes that Harry is just trying to help. He’s worried. So she decides to take a shot at this whole girlfriend thing. “But that would be nice, maybe next time.”

Harry seems to relax at that, and offers to take her out for breakfast or grab a coffee. MJ is having a hard time keeping her eyes open from all the excitement earlier, and her body aches from the fight, so instead she asks if he wants to stay at the dorm with her. She almost regrets saying anything when she remembers this isn’t exactly the luxury Oscorp mansion, and that her bed probably wasn’t made for two grown people, but Harry smiles and doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with the place.

MJ leads them into her bedroom, peeling off her sweater, throwing it across the room and lies down. She starts to feel a little awkward, but ultimately too tired to care. Harry takes off his suit jacket and tie and puts them on the chair beside her bed, lying down next to her. He keeps his distance, despite the small size of the bed, and she can tell he’s trying really hard not to do anything she might not be okay with. It’s sweet, and MJ realizes she needs to redeem herself in the girlfriend department after what she put him through this morning. She scoots back until she fits nicely in the curve of his body, and grabs his hand, bringing it to her chest so that his arm is around her.

In that moment, she can feel his entire body let go of any tension and snuggle closer to her. Letting out a deep breath, she can feel his sigh against her neck, and they fall asleep together.

* * *

“Soooooo, how did it go!?” MJ hears someone yell out from the main room, which jolts her from her sleep. She opens her eyes and she is facing Harry now, who’s still soundly asleep.

She knows Gwen isn’t home, as she’s at Oscorp, so MJ decides to find out who it is. She slides off of the end of the bed as gently as she can, not wanting to wake Harry up, and steps out of her bedroom. She can see Peter standing in her kitchen looking through the fridge, grabbing a piece of lunch meat.

He turns around and nibbles on it while waiting for the answer.

“How did you even…” She begins to ask, but he jingles his keys as if answering her question. “Well. A heads up, as usual, would be nice Tiger,” She jokes.

As if realizing, he narrows his eyes a little, and looks to MJ’s bedroom and back to her again.

“Oh, do you…? OH! _Oh_. My bad… Um.”

“What? No! It’s not like that!” She replies, embarrassed, trying to block his view.

Peter looks away, as if he’s embarrassed too, or something else that MJ’s not exactly quite sure what it is. Dying to get the topic changed, MJ walks into the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water and steer Peter’s eyes to anywhere that’s not her bed and who’s sleeping on it, and answers Peter’s initial question.

“It was amazing. I’ll be sure to let you read the final draft first, since this couldn’t have happened without you. Honestly, Pete, thanks.”

He looks at her again with a piece of lunch meat hanging out of his mouth, and gives her a smile.

“I happened to be on the scene, too, ya know,” He folds his arms over his chest and gives a smirk.

“Oh, did you…” MJ says with absolutely no surprise in her voice.

“Yep. Got some great shots of the scene. Hey! Jameson’s bound to make your article and my picture front page news. We should definitely celebrate!” He offers, enthusiastically.

“How about me, MJ, you and Gwen go out sometime?” A voice comes from MJ’s bedroom. Peter and MJ swivel their heads to see Harry emerging from it, straightening up his tie and buttoning up his suit jacket . “We can all spend a night or two at my lake house in the Hamptons.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he looks at MJ, whose face is also one of surprise as she looks down at her socks. The silence stretches long enough for Harry to walk over to them, kiss MJ’s cheek, nod at Peter and announce he needs to get going as he’s late for some Oscorp meeting. Before he leaves, he lets them know he’ll be checking up to see what they think of his idea, and leaves out the door.

“ _Harry_ …?” Peter questions MJ, his eyes filled with confusion.

“Well… yeah,” she replies, getting a little defensive. “So? He’s a friend, and he’s nice and we get along. What do you care, anyway?” It comes out a little harsher than she had expected, and the way Peter visibly flinches at her tone makes her feel bad, but she has a point. He’s dating Gwen, and MJ has never said a word about it to him. No matter how she felt about it... So it rubs her the wrong way how he can easily question it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I was just surprised, that’s all.” Peter apologizes, looking down. “You never saw him like that back in high school despite him always being all over you. I just thought you...”

“People change,” MJ says, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of that as well.

Peter nods and the mood is heavy between them now, as if both went too far in what they’ve said but neither wanting to take it back. It’s always a hit or miss when it comes to being around Peter.

She ponders on whether or not going to the lake house, the four of them, would be a good idea. It’s still painful seeing Peter and Gwen together, and now Peter’s judgemental way he thinks of her and Harry? It could be disastrous.

Then she thinks it might _actually_ be a good idea in the long run. It could give her some closure, and force her to move on from these juvenile feelings she has for Peter once and for all. To maybe find a stronger connection with Harry. Convincing herself that it’ll be fine, MJ tries to change the subject again

“How about that trip, then?” she starts, hoping it’ll work. “Remember how Harry would always talk about that place? But we never got to actually see it.” She fidgets with her fingers, looking up at the boy.

Peter seems closed off when he answers. “I don’t know if I’ll can. I’m pretty busy with school and the Bugle and stuff. I don’t know, Mary Jane.”

“Can you please think about it?” She suddenly wants this all to work. For her to be with Harry, Peter with Gwen. For them all to be happy together. “It’ll be fun, and I’m sure Gwen could use some time off. You know how hard she works.”

The mention of Gwen seems to soften him a little, and he agrees to talk to her about it, but is still skeptical overall.

“I should probably go.” He finally mentions after they stare at each other for too long.

“Okay.” MJ says, feeling a little disappointed.

When Peter leaves her dorm, MJ sits on the couch, trying to take in all that has just happened. Her relationship with Harry is out in the open now, and Peter isn’t exactly jumping for joy about it. She’s still trying to convince herself that it’s a good idea in the first place, too. Her mind is working itself into knots, and she knows she won’t be able to focus on her classes. She decides to skip all of her lectures for today and go to the coffee shop on campus to start writing her article for the Bugle.

* * *

After a long day of writing until she felt her fingers would refuse to type another word, and way too many cups of coffee, MJ comes home to Gwen sitting on the couch surrounded by a plethora of books. As she sets her bag on the kitchen counter and greets her roommate, she’s met with a pair of glaring blue eyes. MJ immediately starts searching her head for any laundry she left on the bathroom floor or anything else she may have done to piss Gwen off.

“ _Em. Jay._ Watson.” Gwen starts, putting down the notebook she was holding so she could cross her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Harry were officially A _Thing_?”

Oh. That.

MJ walks over to the couch and takes some of Gwen’s books to set them on the coffee table so she has a place to sit. When she does, she puts her feet up on it as well.

“It just kind of... happened? I haven’t even had time to really process it myself actually,” MJ says tiredly.

“I had to find out from _Peter_ ,” Gwen whines in mock hurt, taking MJ’s feet off of the table and setting them on her lap. “ _I’m_ supposed to be the best friend here.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I never even meant for Peter to find out before you,” she confesses, wondering why and what Peter even told Gwen. It hasn’t even been that long since he found out and he has already told her?

“Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Hamptons.” Gwen announces excitedly with a huge grin. “To celebrate you and Peter!”

“Woah, what? Really?” MJ says, surprised. “How did you convince _stick-in-the-mud_ Pete?”

“Well, it wasn’t easy, that’s for sure, but I have my ways,” Gwen winks.

“Ew, too much information...” MJ frowns dramatically and both girls start laughing.

Gwen announces that she’s had enough studying for a night, and collects her books that she’s left scattered all over the living room and neatly organizes them back onto their shelves.

When she spins back around, she faces MJ and looks her up and down. “You really look like you could use a relaxing night in…” She adds while stroking her chin.

“ _Hey_!” MJ throws a cushion at her.

“I’m just kidding,” Gwen replies, setting the pillow back on the couch and messing up MJ’s hair as she walks to her bedroom to retrieve her laptop. “We’re going to the Hamptons this weekend, so we need to pamper ourselves up!” Gwen states a-matter-of-factly from the other room, and when she comes back, the screen on her computer is filled with Do It Yourself recipes for homemade face and hair masks.

Gwen sets the laptop on the kitchen counter and the girls start gathering up the ingredients they’ll need as if they were preparing to cook a gourmet dish. Leftover avocado, mashed up bananas, oatmeal, it’s quite the concoction.

“So you’re saying we mix this stuff together and just put it on our faces?” MJ questions as she pours honey in the bowl Gwen is mixing some fruits in, not quite convinced.

“Yes! It’s supposed to be super replenishing,” Gwen reads off of the website she got the face mask recipe from. “Now quit being a negative nancy and sit down so I can spread this stuff on your face.”

MJ surrenders, sitting down at the kitchen table with her arms crossed over her chest. “If this turns me into a weird super villain, I’ll blame you entirely.” MJ pouts.

“Pretty sure super villains get created in labs, not while trying to cleanse their face.” Gwen retorts as she slabs the first pile of goop on MJ’s cheek and spreads it around.

“Hey, it kind of smells good.” MJ admits.

“And the great thing is that you can even eat it off your face!” Gwen replies while rubbing it all over MJ’s forehead now.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that,” she says while wiping a little bit off of her lip.

The rest of the night is filled with painting each other’s toenails and fingernails, moisturizing, doing body scrubs and all sorts of other beauty things to get themselves ready for the road trip they’ll be taking not too long from now.

They’re both in the living room again, MJ on the floor sitting in front of Gwen who’s on the couch. They’re watching some girly television show that Gwen adores about women in New York while she works MJ’s hair into a french braid. It’s nice and relaxing, and MJ realizes she is totally and completely calm and herself around Gwen.

“I’ve only grew up with stinky boys, so this is nice,” Gwen tells MJ as she gently pulls her hair through another plait.

“Trust me, Gwen, you’re the closest thing I have to a sister.” MJ admits. Despite sitting in front of her, MJ can sense Gwen smile.

“So, like, how did you and Harry happen? Did he sweep you off your feet? Does he make your toes curl and give you butterflies and make you excited to get up in the morning?”

The question from Gwen is innocent and just meant for obligatory Girl Talk, but it makes MJ’s mind work far too fast for what is supposed to be a pampering night.

The truth is, Harry doesn’t make her feel like that at all. He is amazingly sweet, considerate, and he cares for MJ. Not to mention he’s a looker and isn’t that bad off in the money department. Even with all of that, she’s only ever had anything close to the feeling Gwen described with one person… And MJ is _not_ going to think about that. Harry makes her feel nice, like she is enough for somebody to care about. But was _that_ enough?

“I’m not sure if that even exists, Gwen.” MJ says with humour in her voice, but Gwen’s hands stop working on MJ’s hair. The next thing she knows, Gwen’s bent over MJ, looking at her.

“Of course it does, MJ. Peter makes me feel that way.” MJ’s stomach sinks. “He honestly is more than I could ever imagine for somebody to be like. He makes me a better person, and I make him one. Trust me, MJ, one day it’ll come for you, I promise.” Gwen’s eyes look like they’re sparkling as she talks about Peter.

MJ has tried to block out Gwen and Peter’s relationship as much as she possibly could ever since they got together. Whenever they have date nights in their dorm, MJ finds excuses to leave and wander around the city. Most of the time when Peter comes barging in, MJ just goes back into her bedroom and writes on her laptop until he leaves. She finds ways to ask about Gwen’s nights without focusing on Peter, like asking about where they went to eat, and interrupting any mention of him with _Oh I love that pasta place! Aren’t the bread sticks to die for?_ It’s easy to completely avoid any talk about him. MJ doesn’t know if that makes her a bad friend, but it’s definitely for the best.

So to hear Gwen gush about how perfect their relationship is stings a little. MJ wishes more than anything that she could be a great best friend and be happy for her, but it’s going to take a lot of work. Hopefully Hamptons is a start.

Getting up from her spot on the floor, MJ sits back on the couch and instructs Gwen to move so she can braid her hair next.

“I’m really excited to get out of the city for a few days with you, Gwen.” MJ says sincerely, and it’s true. This perks Gwen back up and she gives a large smile.

“It’ll be to _die_ for!” Gwen laughs, looking happier than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

MJ’s huge front page article for the Bugle comes out today, and she’s relieved to have a nice relaxing couple of days out of the city to calm down. She’s spent most of the night up, willing herself not to nitpick what she wrote. It’s already delivered to the Bugle and it’ll be published any minute, there’s nothing she can do about it now.

She knows it’s the best she could’ve done, and she really did put all of herself into it, so she tells herself to not be as critical as she normally is. And if Jameson liked it enough to put it on the front page, how bad could it really be? The guy may be biased against certain topics, but he’s nothing if not a great journalist.

Lying in bed, MJ stares at the clock which now reads 5:45 A.M. Most of the newsstands will be open in 15 minutes, with her article and name right on the cover of one of the biggest newspapers in the country. It’s a little terrifying, but mostly incredibly exciting.

After tossing and turning and trying to go back to sleep for a few hours, MJ gives up and grabs her laptop. Typing the Bugle’s website URL, she goes straight to the comments section of her article and starts reading the reviews that are starting to come in. For the most part, the feedback is good. There was one or two particularly nasty comments saying how the writing was amateur, but MJ gets a little childish satisfaction in seeing that the people behind those comments can’t spell to save their lives.

MJ looks away from the reviews and notices two hours have passed, so she decides to start getting ready for the trip to the Hamptons. She gets up, shuts down her laptop (not before refreshing the page one last time to see if any new comments have popped up), and walks to her dresser to get the clothes she’ll need.

However, she has no clue what to pack. It’s autumn, and the weather has been pretty cold lately, so coats and boots are mandatory. But then again, it’s Harry’s place that they’re going to; there’ll probably be some extravagant hot tub and sauna at the lake house, so she decides to pack a bikini as well.

With her clothes scattered all over her bed and all over her bedroom floor, MJ starts to freak out over what the acceptable attire is for a boyfriend/girlfriend getaway. She knows she’ll be sharing a room with Harry, and she doesn’t want him to see her wearing the normal ratty, stained old T-shirt she usually wears to bed. She picks up and puts down her flannel pyjamas and a silk night dress she bought with Gwen a hundred times, unable to decide which one to take. In the end, she decides to take everything she could possibly need or want, with a few options to spare, packing far more than what she needs for a night out of town.

There’s a knock on MJ’s bedroom door and Gwen peeks her head out from the crack.

“You okay in here?” Gwen asks with an eyebrow raised, seeing clothes spread all over MJ’s room, her suitcase threatening to explode, and a piece of underwear stuck to MJ’s back.

Gwen walks towards her and with her pointer finger and thumb, peels the underwear off of MJ trying to keep from laughing.

“I don’t know! I’m… I’m nervous.” MJ admits while she looks down at the somewhat see-through silk nightgown. She thinks to herself that last year she would never admit to her problems, especially out loud. It certainly feels nice to have someone to confide in now.

“It’s gonna be fine, MJ! Just do what you’re comfortable with. And if he tries any funny business he will have to go through me,” Gwen tries to reassure MJ by flexing her extremely skinny arms, which makes them both laugh. MJ relaxes a bit and thinks it’ll be a good trip because at least Gwen will be there.

Her and Gwen, Peter and Harry.

_Oh boy._

She had heard Gwen and Peter fighting last night about the trip; how Peter didn’t think it was a “good idea” for him to come, again, because “ _What if something happens and I’m not around, Gwen?_ ”. MJ has heard this argument a few times now, it normally getting pretty heated, but in the end it’s obvious Gwen got her way. As if on cue, he’s striding through their front door right now.

“So when did Harry say he’d pick us up?” Peter asks, looking a little bit like a petulant child with the way his shoulders are slumped and his feet dragging across the ground. He only has a small knapsack across his back, making MJ feel silly for packing so much.

MJ grabs the revealing nightdress quickly and shoves it in her suitcase as soon as Peter appears in her bedroom’s doorway, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“He should be here any minute now, so make sure you guys have everything you need,” Gwen answers authoritively, looking from Peter to MJ like a mother would. Her neat little bag is already perfectly packed waiting by the door.

Peter drops his bag by the door as well and walks to the girls’ couch to sit down. He crosses his arms, looking out the window every ten seconds, as if he’s waiting to see something outside. MJ is about to make a comment on it when Gwen sits next to Peter and rests her hand on his knee, giving him a stern look while lovingly running her thumb over his leg. Peter sighs resignedly and uncrosses his arms, his face losing the slight frown it had since he walked in. With neither of them saying a word they had an entire conversation, and MJ wonders if she’ll ever have that with someone.

MJ’s phone buzzes, and it’s a text from Harry saying that he’s in a car in front of the building, and for them to come down when they’re ready. The nerves are getting more intense with every passing minute, and MJ can tell it’s not only hers.

Grabbing her extremely plump suitcase, she announces that Harry has arrived, and they make their way to the elevator.

Harry is waiting in a black town car, and there’s plenty of space in it for another ten of MJ’s huge bags, and probably her entire Journalism class, including the professor. The driver is standing outside the door with his hat to his chest, and waits to open the door for Harry’s guests. MJ feels oddly out of place.

The further they get away from the city, the more visibly miserable Peter looks, despite Gwen’s whispering for him to just try to enjoy this. MJ doesn’t want to intrude on their conversation, so she decides to look out the window at the changing scenery from metropolis to the calm seaside. Harry gets out some champagne to start the celebration early, and MJ is glad to have something to take the edge off. The car ride is over an hour long, and neither of them talk much during it except for the odd, “ _Wow, isn’t that beautiful?_ ” Gwen would offer while pointing at something out the window to break the silence.

They finally make it to the lake house, and as MJ approaches it, rolling her suitcase behind her, she can see it’s extravagant. It’s an extremely old mansion that has obviously been renovated throughout the years. The stone walls still look ancient, though, along with the ivy that crawls up them. The steeples throughout the property are almost as large as some of the skyscrapers in New York, and there’s a lot of green around it for privacy.

Harry is far ahead of them to probably override every security measure they have for it. Peter walks by with his backpack on his back, Gwen’s bag in one hand, and he grabs MJ’s in his other.

“Oh-- No, I got it.” MJ offers, but Peter keeps walking, carrying all of their luggage effortlessly.

They enter through the front door, and the largeness of the place overwhelms her. Gwen comes up from behind MJ and gives her a squeeze on the shoulder. MJ looks around the foyer at its high ceiling where a crystal chandelier hangs, the double staircase that leads up to another floor and the intricate pattern on the marble beneath their feet.

“Wow, this is really something, hey?” Gwen says in awe while pecking MJ’s cheek. “Let’s find our rooms!” Gwen squeals excitedly while running down one of the halls, Peter following behind her, still pouting.

MJ is left there in the front entrance with nothing but her thoughts that seem to echo around the place. She has never been anywhere like this before, and now that she’s with Harry, she’ll need to get used to it and not be so obvious. The last thing she wants is to look lost and confused every time they’re not in her dorm room or in the dodgy diners and cafés she likes to frequent.

Taking off her sweater, her cheeks getting less red now that she’s in the warm house-- if it can be even called that, she wanders the area. She walks up the staircase that seems like it goes on forever, then passes the room that Peter and Gwen chose. She can see through the crack of the door that Peter is sitting on the bed, and Gwen is standing in front of him with her arms crossed. She decides to keep walking and not to eavesdrop on whatever’s happening.

MJ finds herself in the bedroom at the very end of the hall, which she assumes will be hers and Harry’s. It’s bigger than hers and Peter’s entire dorm rooms combined at ESU, with a king size bed against a wall. There’s dark wooden furniture carved with intricate motifs, and different types of masks hung up on the walls. The room also has a walk-in closet, large windows that go all the way down to the floor that overlook the water, and a private bathroom with heated tiles and a tub big enough to fit two adults comfortably.

“So, what do you think?” MJ can hear Harry ask behind her, reminding her of when he asked her the same thing when she first visited Oscorp back in highschool. He enters the room and sets their bags on top of an armchair, looking at MJ so expectantly.

“It’s-- I mean,” she reminds herself not to sound like a star struck teenager and pauses, taking in a deep breath. “This is amazing, Harry. Really. I think you could fit all of New York in that bathroom,” she jokes, and Harry smiles.

“It _is_ the _Osborn_ way,” he replies, though he doesn’t sound particularly proud.

He walks up closer to MJ and takes her hands in his. “I’m really glad you decided to come, MJ,” Harry says, softly. “This is going to be great, you’ll see.”

He leans in and kisses her, and MJ allows herself to relax into it, wanting to believe his words.  

They head on down to the kitchen where Peter and Gwen also are, all of their stomachs leading them to the same place.

“Harry, this place is incredible!” Gwen comments as she sees them enter the kitchen, and Peter agrees, Harry thanking them politely. He then declares that they better be hungry, because he’s going to cook, and that he’s gotten very good at it since high school, getting some impressed _ooohs_ out of his friends.

“MJ, why don’t you grab a bottle of wine in the pantry over there while I get started on dinner?” Harry asks, pointing behind him and MJ nods her head. She walks on over to the storage room and opens the door, seeing stairs that lead to a lower level. Switching the light on, she carefully walks down the steps. There are shelves upon shelves of white wines, red wines, rosés, anything you could possibly want. MJ realizes she doesn’t really know that much about wine, just that aged ones are supposed to be better, so she walks down the cold cellar to the very back, figuring that’s where they’re located.

The further down she walks, the more objects she sees around, as if this place also serves to keep things no one uses anymore. There are large framed paintings propped against sculptures, some furniture covered by dusty sheets, and bookshelves high and wide, lining up the walls from top to bottom.  

Turning the corner, MJ is met with her reflection and she jumps back, her heart racing. She smiles to herself while biting her lip, realizing it’s just a humongous mirror. MJ starts to feel a little unsettled, so she decides to just choose the closest white she sees so she can get out of this creepy cellar.

Just as she’s about to turn to head back, MJ sees a bright red light flash from the reflection, almost as if it’s coming from within the mirror, and it disappears as fast as it showed up. Squinting her eyes, she tries to focus in on it but nothing happens. Shaking her head, MJ decides to just make her way back up to Gwen and the boys.

MJ places the wine on the counter, stating which kind it is, most likely butchering the name. Harry has started on some sort of fig salad while a few chicken breasts are being cooked in a decadent sauce. It already smells delicious and immediately takes her mind off of what she saw downstairs.

There are four wine glasses already on the tabletop, and MJ starts to fill them, self conscious if she’s doing it correctly or not. She hands one to Gwen, who takes it naturally and smiles lovingly at MJ. She realizes that Gwen is pretty upper class as well, and probably is used to having a glass of wine with her dinner.

Handing one to Peter, MJ notices he takes it a little awkwardly as if he doesn’t know how to hold a glass like that, or how he should drink it, and she smiles. At least she’s not the only inexperienced one when it comes to this extravagant stuff.

She joins Gwen and Peter sitting around the marble slab Island in the kitchen, and they watch Harry cook, laughing and clapping when he flips some vegetables up in the air and catches them in the frying pan.

The four of them start talking about nothing in particular, and the mood feels lighter between them. Even Peter seems to be having a good time, filling Gwen in on the shenanigans he would get up to with Harry and MJ in high school, and she looks delighted to hear the stories, teasing them when the tale is particularly embarrassing.

Once Harry is done cooking dinner, they all head to a heated cabana outside, and they watch the sun go down. Gwen sits beside Peter and MJ sits next to Harry and they start to eat with candles and flowers scattered on the glass table.

Harry reaches over to MJ under the table and rests his hand on her thigh in a comforting way. MJ actually welcomes the gesture, as she sees Gwen and Peter holding hands across from them. They all talk about their lives, and futures, and aspirations. Gwen raises her glass and they all toast to MJ and Peter for their Bugle cover, and MJ is starting to feel a bit tipsy.

“Since we’re on the subject of careers, I’ve got some good news, myself.” Gwen says once there’s a pause in the conversation. “I actually have a position lined up at Oscorp as a full time scientist in the molecular medicine department once I’ve graduated. It’s a guaranteed once in a lifetime career!”

There’s a silence in the air for a moment, everyone shocked and in awe; this sort of thing definitely wasn’t common. Then they all congratulate her with lots of hugging and compliments, and the atmosphere is happy and light. Gwen turns to Peter, and he’s smiling at her with loving eyes. They both excuse themselves from the table and they walk hand in hand next to the big pool in the backyard, obviously needing a private moment.

The sun has set completely and the moon has replaced it in the dark blue sky, littered with stars you can’t see when you’re in the city. MJ can see Gwen bursting with happiness, and Peter’s smile is proud and joyful on his lips. He gets closer to Gwen and takes her face in his hands, and they exchange a look that seems to say so much, and kiss. Harry had said something, but MJ can’t hear anything around her; she’s paralyzed watching the scene before her and can’t look away as much as she wants to.

Peter and Gwen make their way back to the table and announce that they’re calling it a night, and MJ’s heart feels like it’s sinking as she watches them make their way back into the house. Her mind goes to unspeakable thoughts that make her hate herself. She can’t stand feeling like this, and there’s only one way she knows how to try and get past it.

The pressure of Harry’s hand is still resting on her thigh and MJ looks down at it. Sliding her hand over, she puts hers on top of his and squeezes it, looking up at him, and makes up her mind.

* * *

MJ locks herself in the bathroom to get herself ready before she faces Harry, who is waiting for her out in the bedroom. She looks down at the flannel pyjamas and the silk nightgown laying out on the counter in front of her. It’s like the two different fabrics will decipher what happens tonight, and suddenly everything is just far too overwhelming for her. Pushing them over onto the floor, she starts to run the faucet, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

The images of Peter caressing Gwen’s face so lovingly and the long looks they shared with each other bang back and forth in her mind like a loud bell giving her a headache.

She cups her hands under the stream of water and splashes it on her face. Straightening up and breathing in, she strips off all her clothes and bends over to pick up the short, silk gown and drapes it over her body.

Her hand lingering on the doorknob, with one last deep breath, MJ encourages herself she needs and wants this to happen, and that it'll help.

_Move on, MJ._

Opening the door, MJ hesitates for a second, still standing in the entrance. Harry’s eyes glance over and then immediately lock on her, looking at her up and down, clearly stunned. MJ sucks in her lips, rubbing them together, reveling in the attention. Harry is still in his dress shirt and pants, but his tie is loosened and a few buttons on his shirt are undone. It's like when they fell asleep together back in her dorm, but there is something a lot different about the energy this time.

She slowly makes her way to the bed where Harry is sitting, and stands right in front of him. Looking down at him, she grabs his tie and soothingly rubs the soft fabric with her thumb.

"Are you sure about— this?" Harry asks, his voice soft and reassuring. MJ doesn't answer in fear of what she might say, so she just bends down while pulling his tie forward and kisses his lips, hoping it'll be enough for him.  

MJ pushes Harry softly onto the bed and he goes easily, resting his weight on his elbows and looking up at her intensely. She puts both knees on either side of his legs, straddling him. If this really is going to happen, she wants to be in control of everything. Being vulnerable is not an option.

Once they're face to face, they resume kissing, and Harry's hands linger on MJ's waist as if waiting for her permission to move. MJ gives her consent as she starts loosening his tie, sliding it off his neck and tossing it to the floor. She moves on to the buttons on his shirt and undoes every last one of them, throwing that on the floor as well. Lastly, she reaches down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling them off his body.

Harry goes rigid, stunned by how commanding MJ is being. His hands bunch up on the material of MJ’s nightgown, sliding it up slowly, and their kissing gets frantic. MJ decides to lose herself in this, to let go completely, and she takes all of him in. She’s so completely fixated on Harry now that she doesn’t even realize when he takes off her gown fully. They’re skin to skin, breathing loudly into each other.

Harry clearly knows what he's doing, expertly moving his lips down MJ's neck, kissing his way down to her chest while his hands touch every inch of skin they can find. Goosebumps rise up on MJ’s entire body, her head lolling back in pleasure.

MJ buries her hands in Harry's hair, pulling on it gently and he groans, tilting his head up to kiss her again. MJ can feel him hard against her lower belly, and the knowledge that she's done this to him fogs her mind. She wants Harry to know he's making her feel good too, so she doesn't hold back on her moaning, and Harry swallows them all up with kisses.

After several minutes that neither of them really register, being so lost in each other, MJ feels ready to move forward with things. She pulls back a little to look at Harry's eyes, and they stare at each other for a moment before MJ nods. Her breathing is labored and her heart is racing, but not from nerves as she had expected.

She steadies herself with her arms around Harry's shoulders and positions her hips so she can carefully lower herself onto him, bracing for the pain. She hasn't told him, but this is her first time, and while she doesn’t want to look inexperienced and like she has no clue what she’s doing, she also doesn’t want to rush anything just to keep up with any appearances.

After the initial discomfort that she tries to mask by kissing Harry hard and biting his lip, MJ starts to move her hips, slowly finding a rhythm that works for her, and Harry's hands go to her waist, guiding her movements. He's breathing hard and his grip tightens on MJ's body, his face burying into her neck taking in her scent.

MJ feels herself getting to a point she has never been before, a feeling intense and great, and she pushes Harry down so he's lying fully on the mattress. She rests her palms on his chest for support as she moves faster, and she can feel his eyes burning on her, wanting to take all of her in at once. There is no inhibition in the motion of their bodies.

When Harry moans her name, MJ knows she isn't going to last much longer, and before she knows it, her orgasm hits her like waves that just keep crashing. Her back arching, her thighs tighten around Harry's legs and she sinks her nails on his chest, leaving marks in his flesh. As she's riding it out, she hears Harry cussing and he comes too, his muscles tensing under MJ’s palms.

MJ stays on top of him for a little longer, trying to catch her breath before rolling over and lying down next to him. As soon as she does, Harry immediately wraps his arms around her, looking at MJ with sweet eyes that are full of feelings she doesn't think she deserves. She still doesn’t know what to say, so she kisses him sweetly and lays her head on his shoulder.

Harry falls asleep shortly after before she does.

* * *

MJ wakes up and glances over at the alarm clock beside the bed, seeing that it’s 3 in the morning. Harry is sleeping beside her peacefully, so she lays quietly on her back staring at the ceiling, suddenly lost in thought.

She thinks about what her and Harry just shared, and she feels _okay_. It had been nothing like the horror stories she’d hear from some of the girls in high school about their first times when it came to the pain. But then, it wasn’t as romanticized and life-changing as the movies make it out to be either. MJ doesn’t feel that much different. Is she supposed to?

Her mind is racing, about whether or not she did well, whether she should have told Harry it was her first time, and about a million other things. To try and escape her thoughts, MJ gets up quietly, without disturbing Harry, to get a glass of water. She throws on the nightgown over her body and makes her way downstairs.

The place is huge, and it’s even more like a maze at night, but MJ finally finds her way into the kitchen after a few thumps against very expensive furniture. It’s not until she opens the fridge and it sheds some light on the kitchen island that she sees a silhouette.

MJ jumps at the sudden appearance of it, her heart thumping against her ribcage, and Peter’s voice emerges from the shadows.

“Sorry! Sorry-- shoulda said something. How is it we both always meet like this?” He asks.

After regaining composure and catching her breath, she answers. “Not really, sure... Just came to get a drink.” Seeing him like this makes her feel like she did something wrong tonight, even though it’s none of his business.

He nods at her direction. “Nice dress,” He tells her with a small smile and looks down at the bowl that’s in front of him, moving his spoon around inside of it.

MJ forgot she isn’t wearing much and feels extremely exposed now, almost as if he can somehow figure out what she was doing earlier by what she’s got on. She wraps her arms around her body in an attempt to cover herself up and sits beside him.

“What are you eating?” She asks, grabbing the bowl that appears to have cereal in it and takes a generous spoonful.

“No, Mary Jane, be my guest, have some.” Peter says in a monotone voice after she takes a bite, teasing her.

“Can I ask you something?” MJ inquires, looking at Peter, beginning again before he can answer. “Why were you such a weirdo about coming here?”

He looks at her with his head resting in the palm of his hand with such expectant eyes. She wonders if he knows that she knows, or at least suspects. Suddenly, more than anything, she wants for him to admit to her why he didn’t want to leave New York City. Why it was so important for him to stay there. To confide in her.

He clears his throat. “Just in case Aunt May needed me. Not too fond of cars either. Motion sickness.” Peter answers, shrugging slightly.

Disappointment overwhelms MJ at his response, which makes her feel even worse for thinking that he would tell her in the first place. It’s clear that she’s just going to have to keep it to herself.

“I’m glad I came, though. To celebrate us, and stuff.” He adds after a short pause.

“Yeah, me too.” MJ gives a half smile.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, both wanting to say more, but words escaping them. Peter finishes his cereal and MJ grabs the water she forgot to get, sipping on it till it’s gone. The company is nice, despite the quiet, just sitting in the dark with no noise besides the soft hum of the refrigerator.

Peter decides to get up after a while and starts washing the dishes he made, and when he’s finished, he announces he’s going back to his room to try and get some sleep. MJ stays in the kitchen afterwards for a little while longer to watch the sun come up before deciding to go back upstairs.

When she wakes up a few hours later, she stretches in bed hoping to feel Harry beside her, but the bed is empty and his side is cold, not having been occupied for awhile. When she turns her head to look at the clock, she sees it’s 9:53 A.M. and she flings herself out of the bed, making her way to their bathroom to take a five-minute shower; she never meant to sleep that late.

She quickly washes her body and hair and brushes her teeth in the shower. As soon as she’s done, she wraps a towel around herself and steps out, starting to walk back to the bedroom when she catches a glance of herself in the big mirror by the sink. Her neck has dark marks that weren’t there the day before, and she runs her hands softly over them, remembering last night. A lot of emotions come to her, but she decides she’ll take the time to figure out what they all mean some other time.

Walking to the bedroom, MJ picks up her suitcase and lays it on the bed. Rummaging inside it, she pulls out some black leggings and a sweater and starts to put her hair up in a bun before recalling the marks on her neck. Not wanting to flaunt them, she leaves her damp hair down instead, and reaches into her bag to grab some concealer, applying it over them just for good measure.  

MJ guides herself a little better to the kitchen this time, partly because she has done it a few times now, but mostly because the smell of bacon leads her the way.

As she enters, she can see Harry cooking breakfast while Peter and Gwen are sitting at the island again. Peter is looking through the morning paper and he looks pretty at ease, so MJ assumes New York is still in once piece, for now. Gwen is browsing her phone; she’s one of the most in-demand university students MJ knows. It’s shocking she was even able to take the time off for this mini-trip.

MJ walks over to Harry and sleepily hugs him from behind as he flips the bacon.

“Those are all for me, right?” MJ teases, pointing at the frying pan sizzling in front of them.

Harry gives a generous laugh, and starts on the eggs. MJ would offer to help, but she knows better and doesn’t exactly want to burn their breakfast, so she sits down on the kitchen island too.

“I was thinking we could just hang out for a little bit before we go home tonight? Go in the hot tub, play a game, whatever you guys want to do.” Harry offers to everyone.

He gets nods and and agreements from Gwen whereas Peter looks a little disgruntled, and he’s about to say something in protest when he suddenly yelps and MJ can see Gwen’s foot connecting with Peter’s shin from under the table.

Once they finish breakfast, they all move to the big lounge room on the ground floor and sit on the huge couches around the room, so big they could use them as spacious beds if they wanted to. Harry had decided to take advantage of the ridiculously large TV and the enormous collection of films in the Osborn’s library to have a movie date just like he used to with Peter and MJ back in high school, but now including Gwen in the fun too.

As Harry goes through the catalog, the other three playfully argue about which feature to choose, shouting “No, that’s boring!” and “Hey, but I like it!” among other things, but they finally decide on Star Wars: Episode IV.

As the movie goes on, MJ, Harry, Peter and Gwen take turns reciting the lines, and all of them say it in unison on the most famous ones, and promptly burst into laughter right after. They throw pillows at each other during quieter moments of the film and as MJ looks around, she realizes that even if she gets confused about what to feel sometimes, there are no other people in this world she’d rather be surrounded by.

“So what do you guys want to do now?” Harry asks as he turns off the TV and puts the movie disk back in its alphabetically coordinated shelf.

“I have an idea,” Peter says.

They all jokingly groan at him, knowing he always comes up with the lamest games for them to play, but he wins them over easily. They all turn to him to listen to the made-up rules of the new crazy game Peter’s invented.

* * *

When the sun starts to set, they decide it’s time to head back to their normal lives in New York. They get up, stiff from laying down for hours and stomachs hurting from all the laughing that was done.

The four of them go back to their rooms to pack their things and get ready for the departure. As MJ walks up the steps, she slows down and takes Harry’s hand into hers, stopping him from going further and letting some distance between the two of them and Gwen and Peter.

“Thank you for inviting us,” MJ says softly to Harry, who smiles. They’re standing on different steps, him on the top one and he looks taller than ever, MJ reaching no further than Harry’s chest. She’s never been good at expressing her emotions, but she made a promise to try, and this seems like a moment where she should say something.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Harry replies, bending down to kiss MJ.

They walk up to the room hand in hand and start putting their things away. It seems as if MJ has even _more_ clothes now that she’s going back, if that’s even possible. She can’t even pack her suitcase shut this time, so Harry tells her he’ll have someone do it for her. It makes her feel bad, but Harry’s ushering her out oh the room so they can get going back, as it’s already getting late.

The ride back is a lot smoother than when they were making their way to the lake house. Peter looks excited to be going home as though they’re on their way to get ice cream. Gwen is already making a list of things she needs to do when she gets back, all of her appointments and obligations, and MJ is happy to get back to the city a little more rested.

A little over an hour passes and the driver rolls up to the University’s dorm. The four of them get out of the car and start saying their goodbyes and thank-yous and we-should-do-it-again-soons. Peter and Gwen grab their luggage and walk in the building, leaving Harry and MJ alone outside.

“So, I know you have class tomorrow, but I was thinking…” He starts, hopeful. “Maybe you want to spend the night at my place? You can go up and get some more of your things now.”

MJ hesitates a bit before answering. She enjoyed spending the last couple of days with Harry, but she needs some time to think about all that’s happened over the weekend, to organize her feelings and figure out what she’s doing. But he’s looking at her with puppy eyes and MJ doesn’t want to disappoint him; she wants to be a better girlfriend than that.

Deciding it can’t hurt, she relents and agrees to his request, going up to her room and grabbing what she’ll need for tomorrow. A new change of clothes, but this time MJ only packs one, not being so nervous anymore, some PJs (of the flannel sort), some books she’ll need for her early morning classes, and a bathroom bag. She hauls all of her necessities in a backpack, and before she leaves, Gwen tells her to have a good time followed with a wink. MJ rolls her eyes but smiles at Gwen. This girl is her best friend and makes her feel better when it comes to these types of situations.

MJ walks downstairs and goes outside to where Harry’s car is waiting for her, feeling good. She’s going to spend the night with her boyfriend at a beautiful, comfortable mansion. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Sexual Content
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

As MJ enters the luxurious apartment in the heart of New York City that she has been to many times, she feels the air is a little different around her. When she visited this house before, it was just her friend Harry’s over-the-top apartment. Now it’s her boyfriend’s.

She unpacks the few things she brought over into Harry’s room while he goes and checks on some Oscorp stuff that seems urgent.

Once she’s finished, she doesn’t want to disturb him, so she just wanders the apartment. Her bare feet cold against the hard wooden floors, fingers trailing along the walls covered in expensive wallpaper, she hums to herself and looks around at all the portraits hung up. There’s a kind of… _Eerie_ -looking painting of who she knows to be Harry’s father, Norman Osborn, only from the billboards and commercials she always sees.

She makes a left and she’s in a corridor she hasn’t been in before now. She can hear the soft murmurs of what sounds like a very important phone call coming from inside a room where the door is ajar. The mention of Spider-Man and new highly advanced machinery makes MJ step a little closer to get a better listen. That’s when she hears Harry’s voice get louder and argue about how the company is spending too much time on something called the “OZ formula,” and how dangerous it can be in the wrong hands. MJ decides she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, an unsettling feeling developing in the pit of her stomach. She shuffles her feet along the floor quietly to go back to Harry’s room. When she turns the corner, she runs right into a large, stiff body.

“Oh-- I’m sorry-- I didn’t--” MJ feels like she was just caught putting her hand in the cookie jar. She looks up to see the hard features of Mr. Norman Osborn himself, his eyes staring down at hers.

“And who might you be?” The man’s voice is authoritative.

“I’m MJ, sir. I’m-- Harry’s...” She suddenly feels extremely nervous.

“Ah, MJ, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Norman smiles, sounding charming now.

He still looks intimidating, but his smile is genuine enough. Hopefully he didn’t think she was snooping… Even if she was a little.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Uhm-- I should probably go and try to find Harry,” MJ says while holding onto her elbow; she should have made a better impression than that. Girlfriends should impress their boyfriend’s fathers, shouldn’t they?

“Of course, I hope you two will join me for dinner.” Norman offers, and he gives MJ a nod and walks towards the conversation she was listening in on just a few seconds prior. She lets out a huge breath and a shiver crawls down her spine. She can still feel the man’s presence in front of her, like a strong drink that leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

* * *

Harry and MJ sit across from each other at a long, dark wooden table in the dining room. The few words they exchange echo off of the large ceiling, while a soft elegant instrumental piece plays out of the speakers around the room. They’re waiting for Norman to join them for dinner, as he said he would be there soon, but with every minute that goes by Harry looks more and more furious.

“It’s just like him to be late to something _he_ request to have in the first place.” Harry says through gritted teeth.

MJ looks across at him with understanding eyes. “I’m sure he just got caught up, Harry. He’ll come,” she tries to reassure him.

Harry crosses his arms over his chest while looking across the room, pouting. MJ wonders what Norman has done to make Harry despise him so much. She understands that he’s absent, and she knows what that feels like more than most people, but at least he’s making an extremely comfortable living for the two and cares enough to have dinner with him. That’s more than she could say for her own father.

After about fifteen minutes of very uncomfortable waiting, Norman comes striding over into the dining area with a huge grin. Raising his arms in the air he says, “Let’s eat!”

He sits at the head of the table, ignoring Harry’s enraged expression completely.

“Bring the veal, Barney.” Norman says to their butler who was standing patiently in the corner the whole time.

MJ has never had veal before, and though she’s not _too_ political about what food she eats, she isn’t exactly too keen on eating a baby cow either. She picks at the meat on her plate and cuts it into the smallest pieces she can, mixing it up with the side of steamed vegetables the dish came with, not wanting to be impolite and leave the food untouched.

“So, MJ,” Mr. Osborn starts before taking a sip of wine from the glass in front of him. “I understand you attend Empire State University as a Journalism major. What do you plan to do after you graduate?”

MJ isn’t expecting such a question and chokes a little bit on her mouthful of sweet potatoes, but covers it up quickly and looks at Harry, who nods as if urging her to answer.

“Well, writing for a big newspaper company has always been my dream, cover all of the important stuff, and maybe one day become the editor of one? And I want to write a book someday, too.” MJ had actually never thought of the book idea until now, wanting to impress Mr. Osborn, but now that she’s said it out loud, it sounds really good. Not any time soon, she reasons, but eventually. Even if no one buys it, having a book with her name on the cover sitting on her shelf would be a huge accomplishment for her.

Norman starts talking again and it interrupts MJ’s thoughts.

“That’s excellent. I like a woman with her own career goals. My son will inherit Oscorp and a fortune at that when I get old, and he will have no need for a no-life hussy coming after his trust fund.”

“Dad!” Harry interjects, and MJ looks down feeling embarrassed, but she doesn’t even know why.

“She needs to hear these things if she’s planning on sticking around. I won’t have you throw away my life’s work because you can’t keep it in your pants.” Norman’s face is neutral.

“That’s enough,” Harry spits out, and gets up from his chair, throwing the linen napkin that was resting on his lap forcefully onto the table. “Come on, MJ.”

Norman is looking at Harry as he would a child throwing a tantrum, and MJ feels frozen in place. If this is how he treats his son, then she understands why she never heard warmth in Harry’s voice when talking about their relationship.

It’s only when Mr. Osborn turns his cold stare on to MJ that she remembers to move, and she mutters an “excuse me” before getting up and following Harry out of the room. Her hands feel sweaty and her knees weak as she exits the dining room.

They both make their way into Harry’s bedroom and he barely closes the door behind him when he starts apologizing to MJ for his father’s behavior.

“I don’t know what came over him, he shouldn’t have said any of that, he was wrong and--” Harry stumbles the words out of his mouth, losing his breath.

“It’s okay,” MJ tries, but Harry is having none of it, cursing his father for being so insensitive and the conversation turns into a venting session. MJ just sits on the bed and listens, never having heard Harry go off like this before.

After he’s spent, MJ offers that it’s time to go to bed, and they take their turns using the bathroom connected to the room. MJ takes a little longer than Harry, splashing her face with cold water a few times to try and wash away the gross feeling tonight has left her with.

She steps back into the bedroom and climbs in bed next to Harry, but they both sleep with their backs to each other.

When she wakes up, the bed is empty and there’s a note on the bedside table.

_“Had to go to Oscorp early, didn’t want to wake you._

_Stay as late as you’d like._

_I’m sorry about last night._

_-H.”_

MJ rubs her eyes and gets up, looking through her backpack to find her toiletries, heading for a quick shower. She doesn’t want to stay here alone a minute longer than she has to.

* * *

After the uncomfortable night she spent at the Osborn household, MJ doesn’t hear from Harry for a few days. At first she didn’t even notice (and it makes her feel awful that she didn’t), but after three full days without so much as a text from Harry, who’s usually always trying to keep in touch with her one way or another, she begins to worry.

She knows she didn’t make that great of an impression to Mr. Osborn, but would that be enough reason for Harry to stop contacting her at all?

MJ has been sitting in class for 30 minutes now, and all she’s been able to do is stare at her phone, waiting for a message or a phone call. She’s tapping her nail on the screen of the device absentmindedly when her professor calls her attention, and the entire class stops to look at her.

“If you have more important things on your mind, Ms. Watson, you’re welcome to leave the classroom to focus on them, as your time spent here is clearly doing you no good.”

MJ’s cheeks flush with embarrassment and she debates whether she should stay and try to pay attention. However, after another minute of the boring explanation about God knows what, she decides to just take a long walk before heading to the Bugle to try and clear her head. They have a staff meeting later on today and MJ wants to be in the right mindset for it.

She doesn’t want to allow herself the thought, but maybe this relationship thing just isn’t for her. MJ doesn’t know how she’s supposed to feel, what is normal and what isn’t and if she should voice what she’s thinking or not. As nice as it feels to be with Harry, having to think about her every move and whether she’s saying the right thing or not is exhausting. Maybe a little too much.

After that thought, though, she tells herself she’s not a quitter. Harry has done nothing but be good to her, so how could she live with herself if she just walked out at the first sight of trouble because of her own messed up ideas of what a relationship should be like? She hasn’t exactly had the best example in her house when she was growing up, anyway, what with her parents either behaving like enemies or strangers and her sister getting knocked up and running off with the first guy that ever gave her the time of day. Maybe this is what real relationships are like, and she’s just freaking out over nothing.

As the bus pulls up to the stop, MJ decides that that’s what this is, just her brain short-circuiting for a bit, and that things are fine. Harry is just probably busy and he’ll call when he calls, and they’ll be _fine_.

Taking a seat by the window at the back of the vehicle, as she always does, MJ turns her attention to the meeting she’s having today at the Bugle. It’s the first one she’s been invited to, and she doesn’t quite know what it’s about, never having had an office job before. She wonders if Jameson is going to yell and randomly fire everyone, if there will be pie-chart graphics with numbers she won’t understand or any other things she’s seen happen in movies.

Feeling a little anxious, she starts thinking of anything she might have done to anger J.J.J. in recent weeks, and of ways to convince him not to let her go. She’s not going to lose this job now that she’s so close to her goals, she won’t allow it.

Getting off a few stops before hers, she walks into a coffee shop and orders over a dozen of their most obscene-looking pastries, and as many travel-size coffees she can carry. She can almost hear her wallet whimpering in her bag. It’s an expense she can’t exactly afford right now, being a broke college student and all, but spending money now and buttering up the right people could save her future paychecks at the newspaper. She’s just going to have to survive on ramen noodles for a week.

It’s a three-block walk to the Bugle and MJ can barely see where she’s going with the pile of goodies in front of her. Her arms are aching and she’s sure she looks stupid, because she certainly _feels_ it, stumbling around like a drunk penguin. She’s about to unknowingly step into a big crack on the sidewalk and probably fall over when she hears someone calling her name.

“Hey, Mary Jane!”

She stops dead in her tracks, foot resting only an inch from the crater on the ground, and sees a mop of brown hair dangerously crossing the street to where she is. She recognizes it immediately.

“Hey, Pete.”

A taxi rushes past them with the driver yelling what MJ assumes are curses in another language to Peter. She laughs as he lifts his hands in apology in the general direction of the cab.

“So, besides almost getting run over in the middle of an intersection, what are you doing here?” MJ asks, trying to move her head around the large pink box in her arms to look at Peter.

“Same thing as you,” he replies, with a funny expression on his face, which MJ copies in confusion. They stare at each other for a moment and MJ raises her eyebrows in question.

“...The Bugle meeting?” Peter offers, and her brain finally clicks. Of course he’d be there, he works for Jameson too. She often forgets that.

“Oh, right! Totally. Forgot you’re part of the team, too,” MJ confesses, and Peter pouts at her.

“Nice to see I’m so memorable,” he teases, and she rolls her eyes at him. They start walking towards the building that’s only a block away now and don’t say anything to each other, but MJ can feel Peter’s eyes on her.

“What?”   

“Are you gonna ask me to help you carry that? Or are you aiming to drop it all on purpose?” Peter inquires, laughter in his voice.

MJ snorts and hands the coffee and pastries over to him, who carries them as easily as if they were feathers. They continue walking, already at the entrance of the office. The security guard working now knows them both and they exchange greetings as he lets them in, leaving a pair of screaming men behind at the reception. They’re demanding to see the editor of the newspaper because they have exclusive pictures of Elvis that prove he’s alive. It’s a common occurrence around these parts and no one even notices it much anymore.

Making their way up to the staff room, MJ fidgets a bit, tapping her fingers against her leg and pulling loose threads from the hem of her T-shirt. She knows she’s being dramatic about this and that a meeting is no big deal, but she can’t help it. Peter seems to notice and bumps his arm against MJ’s, smiling at her and she relaxes despite herself.

The main office is busier than usual, with more people at their desks and the sounds of typing and talking louder than normal, but Jameson is nowhere to be seen. Peter and MJ greet Betty and set the food by the old coffee maker that no one uses in the corner of the room, and stand around awkwardly.

Neither of them have desks of their own, being mostly freelancers at the paper, and MJ catches herself thinking what it would be like to come here every morning and sit behind her computer and just write all day. Or to get up from her desk in the middle of a shift and running out because there’s something important happening that she needs to be the first one to report. It sounds pretty good to her.

After a few minutes, Betty starts walking around urging people to go to the conference room since it’s about to start. Peter and MJ grab the coffee and pastries and make their way over, placing them on the big table in the middle of the room so people can take what they want.

A big, tall man walks towards the pink box and grabs a pastry from inside it, holding papers and folders in his other hand. His name tag reads “Mr. Robertson”, and MJ has seen him before but they never exactly talked. He walks towards Peter and MJ.

“I told you these two are my favourite Ms. Brant, what did I say?” The man addresses Betty, giving the other two a wink before he finds his spot at the large table.

As Betty turns to look at them, she whispers “It’s true, you two really are Robbie’s favourites.”

Peter and MJ look at each other trying not to laugh. Everyone starts taking their places shortly after Jameson arrives.

* * *

When the meeting ends, MJ feels a lot calmer and a bit silly that she had freaked out about it earlier; it was just a routine check up on where they are, where they wanted to be as a company, and more monotonous things like that.

As MJ and Peter are about to leave, they are interrupted by Jonah Jameson walking over to them. Clearing his throat that seems to be pretty sore from all the shouting he did, he addresses MJ.

"You bring these?" His fat, stubby, cigar shaped finger points to the box of treats. The moustache hanging over his lips make it impossible to read his expression, especially considering his eyebrows are so thick they can barely move at all.

MJ’s face flushes, nearly matching the color of her hair. She brought the pastries and coffee over as a nice gesture, but maybe it’s not what you’re supposed to do in an office, and she’ll get told off over it.

"I love this coffee place, but my wife won’t let me eat this stuff. Says I have to watch my damn cholesterol.” He realizes that he may have just given praise, so he adds, “What are you trying to do, kill me?"

MJ can’t believe it. She got a thank you from Scrooge himself. Well, the closest to a thank you she thinks the man is capable of giving. She starts to feel important at the Bugle, and like she has actually earned her place here, even if she technically doesn’t even have a place at all.

She can’t help but smile ear to ear as her and Peter ride the elevator down, laughing at how there were rainbow sprinkles stuck in Mr. Jameson’s moustache.

They’re both walking out into the street and are talking about the latest assignment they have to do for the Photography class they’re taking together at the university when a piercing and deranged laugh ripples through the air, freezing everyone in the street. MJ can see Peter tensing up and looking around to try and find where the awful wail came from, and a second later an explosion hits the entrance of the Daily Bugle, and MJ is thrown to the ground. She barely has time to notice she won’t be able to brace herself for the fall when she lands on something a lot softer than concrete. Opening her eyes, she sees Peter underneath her, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly, and she realizes he grabbed her before the impact of the explosion could get to her.

He quickly helps her up and frantically points at the opposite direction of the building, almost pushing her towards it with the arm he kept on her waist. MJ can see people running around them and cars hitting others trying to get out of the way, and when she looks at Peter she finds his lips moving, but she can’t hear anything.

MJ is confused and trying to understand what’s happening and how everything could be so quiet when a bomb has just gone off when Peter shakes her to get her attention. He looks crazed, face red and sweaty as if he’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and she can tell he’s telling her to go, so she does. She starts running away from where the commotion is, faster than she thinks her legs can take, running into people and cars hidden by the smoke of the explosion, trying to find somewhere to hide.

When she feels like she’s about to pass out from too much running and not enough oxygen, she ducks behind a parked car to get a better look at her surroundings and catch her breath. She’s never been in these streets before and doesn’t know where to go for cover.

There’s a warehouse across the street from where she is, and it looks like a good enough place to hide for now. She sprints to it with the last of her strength and enters through the broken back door, immediately collapsing against the wall on the other side.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when she finally comes to, but her lungs are still burning and her muscles aching, so MJ figures it hasn’t been long. She tentatively gets up and finds stairs she assumes lead up to the roof and walks up them to see what is happening outside. When she looks out from the ledge the city, it looks like a ghost town. It’s terrifying.

There are no more people running, the smoke has dissipated and the only movement comes from two silhouettes in the sky. One of the figures is flying atop on what looks to be a hoverboard of some kind, and the other swinging from a we--

 _Peter_.

MJ turns around and runs back downstairs, sprinting through the broken down shack and onto the street. She starts backtracking and racing back to the Daily Bugle to see if people are okay and to try and find Peter… Though her brain is telling her she already knows exactly where he is.

Passing through a building that looks to be a store of some sort, MJ catches her reflection through the big glass and it grabs her attention, making her step closer. Cleaning the dust from the pane to get a better look at herself, she sees dark streaks down her face coming from her ears on both sides. Touching it, she feels some of it dry, but her fingers still pick up a bit of the remaining wet substance.

Blood.

That’s why she can’t hear. She was too close to the explosion and the sound must have broken her eardrums. MJ can feel herself start to hyperventilate and her heart pound against her ribcage. Is she permanently deaf?

MJ slides down the wall of the store and sits in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning against the brick. The majority of the people have dispersed and are no longer in the streets; only an odd person comes racing by without a single glimpse at her. Like they thought she was already dead.

She whispers to herself over and over.

“I’m sorry… I wish I was… Braver than this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” MJ weeps as she places her hands over her ears. Normally she would be furious at herself for being so vulnerable and weak, but she is in shock and can hardly focus on anything right now; her vision getting blurry.

Still sitting on the ground, MJ feels her head throbbing with the strongest headache she’s ever felt, and a high-pitched ringing follows it. She cradles her head and puts it between her knees hoping for some relief, and the pain starts to subside after a few minutes. Lifting her head up a bit, there’s an abrasive thumping inside her ears and she feels incredibly dizzy. Then someone starts screaming her name.

“Mary Jane?! Mary Jane!”

The voice gets louder and louder as a battered figure in red and blue runs towards her until she can hear it clearly. There’s no mistaking who that voice belongs to; she would recognize it anywhere.

“You’re bleeding! Are you hurt? Tell me where you’re hurt!” Spider-Man says as he picks her limp body up, cradling her in his arms.

“I-- I’m okay, Peter. I’m okay now.”

* * *

MJ wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, and her eyes hurt when she opens them from the too-bright fluorescent lights. There is a beeping in the background and she can feel something stuck to her arm, and she knows she’s in a hospital.

Turning her head to the side, she sees through the window that the sun is only starting to come up, and she notices a vase of flowers on the table next to her bed. She wants to reach for them, as there’s a card among the blooming carnations, but her arms feel too heavy when she tries to move, so she lets the idea go.

She closes her eyes again and tries to go back to sleep, but after an unsuccessful hour her back starts protesting, having been in the same position for too long. MJ decides to try and sit up on the uncomfortable mattress and she wonders how long she’s been in here for. She runs a hand through her hair and can tell it’s way past due on a wash, and the flowers by her bed are beginning to wilt, so she figures it’s been at least a couple days.

Flashes of the explosion at the Bugle run through her head as she remembers when she was last awake. Her stomach drops at the images in her memory of bleeding people running scared, lost children crying among the debris and half of the building collapsing on everyone around. Even when she was in the middle of it, she knows New York has seldom seen an attack like this, and the chill she gets remembering the unhinged laughter that preceded the destruction tells her this is the work of a truly evil person. If they’re even human at all.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, MJ finally reaches out and takes the card that’s in the bouquet next to her, despite the effort and pain, to fill her mind with something else. Her name in the front is in a handwriting she doesn’t recognize. Opening it, she reads a generic “Get well soon” message and Harry’s signature at the bottom, this time in his writing. Surprisingly, the card not being at all personal doesn’t bother her much. MJ is finding it hard to think about anything right now, her mind fuzzy around the edges from whatever medication the hospital administered to her.

She lies her head back down and closes her eyes again for a moment, but her door opens and she hears a familiar voice talking to somebody on the phone.

“MJ?” Gwen tentatively asks, and MJ smiles up at her, slowly opening her eyes.

“Oh, thank God!” Gwen’s face lights up with relief and sprints towards the bedside while hanging up the phone. She takes MJ’s hand and squeezes it tightly while half laying on top of her to give her a hug.

“Can’t…. Breathe…” MJ jokes.

Gwen lets out a gasp and jumps backwards, then sits in the chair beside the bed and drags it close to MJ.

“Where’s Peter? Is he okay?” MJ asks, fear suddenly overwhelming her and she scoots up in the bed a little to straighten herself. Her eyes are glued onto Gwen’s to see her reaction to the question. She doesn’t remember much of what happened after she passed out in Peter’s arms. He obviously brought her to safety, but was he met with the same fate afterwards? Even though he is Spider-Man, what he faced wasn’t like any of the other villains before.

Gwen looks extremely tired, but she gives a soft smile which relieves MJ a tiny bit.

“He’s fine. He’s good. Honestly, I don’t know how much of this I can take -- you both always being in the crossfire of all of these--” Gwen stops to take a deep breath and closes her eyes.

MJ squeezes her hand that she’s still holding, because Gwen does go through a lot. With her father getting killed for protecting and serving, Peter always putting his life on the line, and MJ being in one too many near death experiences, it would take a lot out of anybody.

“Why isn’t he here?” MJ asks a little disappointedly, her voice sounding small. If he was fine, wouldn’t he want to make sure that she was okay too? It might be selfish of her to ask Gwen, especially because she’s under so much stress, but with the amount of drugs MJ is on coupled with her desperation, she needs to know.

“I--” Gwen pauses for a second. “I’m actually not really sure. We kind of got in an argument before I came here today. I’ve been coming every single day and he just doesn’t--”

Gwen doesn’t have to finish her sentence, and she doesn’t. MJ knows why he isn’t here. It all comes back to her, rushing inside of her head. _“I’m okay, Peter. I’m okay now.”_

Peter surely realizes now that MJ knows he’s Spider-Man. His biggest, most personal secret in the entire universe is now knowledge to her; he’s probably freaking out. So much so that he didn’t even tell Gwen that MJ knows.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here.” MJ says, hoping it’s convincing, trying to mask how defeated she feels. It seems authentic enough as Gwen gives MJ a smile and starts going on about obligatory Girl Talk that she has missed over the past coupled of days she has been unconscious.

Gwen stays around for about another hour after that, making sure that MJ is comfortable, talking authoritatively to the nurse to ensure they take good care of her, begging MJ to let her mom pull some strings to get her a nice private room, but MJ politely declines. Gwen leaves for Oscorp after that, and MJ is left alone in the room.

She stretches to grab her cell phone that’s on the bedside table and sees a few texts from Gwen, a voicemail from May stating how she’s going to visit MJ in the hospital from earlier in the afternoon today, and a call from the Bugle. None from Peter or Harry.

She debates whether or not to call Peter, to ask if they can talk about what happened, but in the end she thinks it’s best for him to come to her on his terms. Instead she clicks on Harry’s name and starts to write a message.

_We need to talk._

_\- MJ_

Moments after, she gets a reply.

_I know. I’ll come by soon._

_\- Harry_

MJ thinks to herself that this is it.

* * *

A few hours pass, during which MJ keeps herself distracted by counting and recounting the amount of tiles that are on the floor, and it’s only when the light coming from the window dims that Harry arrives at the hospital.

He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in a few days, and his suit is uncharacteristically wrinkled. MJ notices the red, purple and yellow hues of a forming bruise on his temple, but doesn’t mention anything. He slowly walks into the room and sits on a chair beside the bed.

They both sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until Harry turns his head towards MJ and reaches out to brush his hand along the bandage on MJ’s head.

“I did visit, you know,” he starts. “While you were out, I came here to check up on you. I didn’t know you’d wake up today, otherwise I would’ve come earlier.”

“I know,” MJ replies. Knowing that he means it makes what she’s going to do that much harder.

They don’t look at each other for a long time while MJ is trying to build up the courage and find the words to say, what she _needs_ to say, but before she can, Harry speaks up.

“You don’t have to say it, okay? I get it.” His voice is barely audible, and yet MJ feels the sadness radiating off of it like a cold chill in the room. “You were just never as into this as I was. Am.”

MJ feels her chest tightening up with gloom and shame at making Harry sound so crestfallen. That’s exactly why she didn’t want to be with him in the first place; she knows relationships only end up in heartbreak and she didn’t want to cause that to her dear friend.

“I’m sorry,” MJ gets out in a hoarse whisper, looking into Harry’s eyes to show how much she means it. She owes him that much.

“Me too.”

“Can we still be friends? Please?” MJ hears herself beg, and she would be embarrassed about it if it were anybody else, but it’s Harry. He means a lot to her despite everything, and she can’t imagine her life without him in it.

Without answering, Harry gets up from his chair and starts to head for the door, shoulders slumped and head down.

“I need to go. Take care of yourself, MJ.”

MJ stares at the empty space in the doorway that Harry has left behind him for what seems like ages. She feels defeated by what just happened, and eventually allows herself to cry. MJ can’t remember ever crying so much over a relationship; it feels like it’s coming from the pit of her stomach. She has ruined everything. This is all her fault, and she doesn’t know if it’s fixable.

She rolls over and weeps into her pillow for a little bit when she hears a soft knock on the door.

“MJ, dear?” The kind and delicate voice of May fills the room which makes MJ even more emotional, and she starts to cry even more. May rushes as quickly as she can to MJ’s side and engulfs her in a large hug.

“There there, sweetie, it’ll be okay.” May soothes softly in her ear as she rubs her back with more comforting reassurance than she had remembered from her own mother. May rocks MJ back and forth while still embracing her like a small child, and it calms her down and eventually the tears subside.

* * *

The next day MJ wakes up to commotion in her room and to the voices of Gwen, her mother and the doctor that has been taking care of her. She’s being released from the hospital today, and Mrs. Stacy insisted on taking the girls back to their dorm room. It makes MJ feel like she matters to people. From May, and now this, MJ’s heart feels full, despite Harry and Peter.

Gwen helps her to the restroom so MJ can change out of her hospital gown and into some more appropriate street clothes, and she avoids looking in the mirror above the sink. MJ quickly puts her hair up in a messy bun just to get it out of her face.

When she steps out, the doctor is giving Gwen some recommendations for the next few days, as she’ll be the one with MJ back at ESU. The doctor tells Gwen to make sure MJ takes it easy for the next couple of months. No extremely loud concerts or wearing headphones for awhile. She needs to take some medication nightly and Gwen attentively listens and asks questions about what else she can do to help, and MJ fondly rolls her eyes at her best friend.

MJ can walk just fine, but it’s hospital policy that all patients should be delivered to their vehicles in wheelchairs. Gwen promptly volunteers to push it, and all the fussing over her makes MJ laugh, and she makes a mental note to tease Gwen about it at home.

As they step into the girls’ building, the lightness MJ was feeling over Gwen unnecessarily doting on her gives way to anxiety. Gwen hasn’t mentioned Peter since that day at the hospital and MJ has no idea where they stand now.

Gwen walks in front of her to unlock their dorm room door and MJ can’t help but  look at Peter’s door, wondering if he’s inside or out fighting some villain. She glances at Gwen and she doesn’t think she could ever live like that, not knowing if he’s dead or alive. It kills MJ enough as it is now.

“Honestly Gwen, you don’t have to babysit me. I am totally okay to surf Netflix on my own. I know you have important things to do; you’re Gwen Stacy,” She tells Gwen as she’s helped onto the couch, and Gwen gives an unimpressed look.

MJ doesn’t take no for an answer, though. In fact, she actually really needs the alone time. With worrying about her and Peter, what happened with her and Harry, and her stability at the Bugle, she has a lot to think about.

Gwen pouts a little but eventually relents as she sees that MJ is in fact fine, but not before reminding her of the list of things the doctor told her to do and to avoid doing if she wants to get back to 100% after her teared eardrums and major concussion.

As MJ tries to get comfortable on the couch, Gwen goes into her room to pick up the things she’ll need for work, and MJ hears Gwen telling someone on her phone that “she’s fine,” and “yes, she’s home, I’ll keep an eye on her,” and MJ catches herself wondering if that’s Peter asking about her.

With that thought, she realizes she actually isn’t ready to think about any of that stuff right now, so she decides to turn on the television to distract her from her thoughts and drown out Gwen’s conversation. Anything at this point would be better than opening those floodgates, MJ is already embarrassed enough as it is for crying so much the other day.

She decides on some comedy show that hopefully will cheer her up and lies on the couch, angry that she needs to be resting for the next for weeks. After a few minutes, her mind gets foggy and the drowsy medication pulls her under, Gwen giving her a kiss on the cheek before she leaves for Oscorp is the last thing she sees before surrendering to a deep sleep.

The screams and crashing and the all too familiar haunting and ghoulish laugh fill her ears, and MJ thinks she is back in the middle of the disaster. She opens her eyes immediately and sits up, and it takes her a while to notice that the noises are coming from the television.

All channels have been interrupted by a live broadcast of another terrorist attack by whom they’re now calling the Green Goblin. It was the man--if it can even be called that, with the hoverboard that MJ had seen that awful day.

MJ sits on the edge of the couch, trying to get a closer look at the images on the television. This time she can see the villain clearly, and she wishes she hadn’t. Barely human, the creature looks much bigger than any person MJ has ever seen, and what skin is visible looks like a sickly shade of green as if it’s been badly infected, but the majority of its body is covered in green metal. The footage isn’t clear enough to see any real details, but MJ could swear she can see its eyes glowing under the purple hood covering its head.

The broadcast continues and there are desperate people running everywhere, terrified and hurt, and the Goblin only laughs from the air. It’s flying over the city with its glider, throwing bombs at random and madly cackling as if it were delighted to see the chaos.

MJ feels sick to her stomach. The broadcast mingles with her own experience with the monster and makes her heart pound and breath catch. Someone needs to stop this thing, and she knows the only one who has a chance at doing it is Peter. But something tells her this might be too big, even for him.

An awful, foreboding feeling strikes MJ, telling her that the worst is yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, we are going on a 2 week hiatus, so we won't post next Wednesday, but the Wednesday after. This is so this chapter really sinks in for you. :)
> 
> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

Gwen comes home later on in the evening and MJ’s eyes are still glued onto the television. The live broadcast has ended some time ago when the fight between Spider-Man and the Goblin had lost its steam and they’d taken off somewhere too far for the cameras to follow, but she doesn’t want to look away in case it comes back on.

MJ's heart is racing for Peter’s safety, her hands clutching tightly onto a pillow against her chest, begging for him to be okay. She barely even hears Gwen as she comes into the living room and drops her bags and books on the floor next to the couch MJ is currently on.

“Ugh, kill me now!” Gwen groans, which startles MJ a little. She looks at the blonde girl who appears to be exhausted, but not particularly _scared_ like she should be.

“I have this huge paper due tomorrow and I am _way_ too exhausted to even think,” Gwen continues, and dramatically flops sideways on the an armchair, her arm flinging over her face to cover her eyes.

Okay… So Gwen has been so busy with Oscorp and school that she hasn’t even glanced at a television all day; she has no clue what’s going on. MJ thinks to herself whether or not she should tell her best friend that her boyfriend is yet in another life-threatening battle, or if she should spare her from this for one night.

Gwen goes on and on about the details of the project she has to turn in, how difficult it’ll be to do with her having her own projects at Oscorp to complete to move up in her career,  and eventually MJ realizes that she wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark like this; she would want to know if Peter was in danger. It wouldn’t be fair to keep it from her and she knows Gwen would feel awful for worrying about homework when her partner is out there risking his life.

MJ reaches for the remote and turns off the TV, and just as she opens her mouth to let Gwen know what’s been happening, an excruciatingly loud crashing sound hits the room like thunder. Shock completely takes over her and MJ can feel tiny stabbing pains all over her left arm right after. She lets out a large gasp as she looks down at it, seeing little pieces of glass having penetrated deeply into her flesh. Before MJ can react any further because of it, she spins around and is met with two glowing yellow eyes staring right at her, freezing her in place.

“Hello, my darling.” The voice is eerie and familiar.

A piercing shriek escapes from Gwen’s lips and it snaps MJ out of her stupor, instinct kicking in. MJ runs as fast as she can towards her best friend, who’s now on the floor on the other side of the room, having been thrown off of her seat from the explosion.

MJ’s mind, now used to piecing random facts together to see the whole picture for her articles, realizes what’s happening immediately. If the rumours are true and this villain made itself using some type of serum of its own creation, it only makes sense that it’d be smart enough to figure out Spider-Man’s identity just as easily as MJ has. And to also know that the most effective way to defeat someone is not to beat them to death, but to go for their heart.

_The Goblin is here for Gwen._

“GWEN, RUN! RUN, GWEN, GO!” MJ screams at the top of her lungs, her voice scratching her throat, still hoarse from the previous time she met this monster.

Gwen seems to be paralyzed in terror, unable to stop looking at the Goblin, or to hear her friend pleading at her to get to safety.

MJ jumps in front of Gwen as the insane creature swoops in from the smashed open window and hovers inches away from them, almost tauntingly. She can feel Gwen’s fingers holding on to her arm tightly enough to leave bruises, and MJ blindly reaches behind her, her hand finding Gwen’s leg. She gives it her best shot at a reassuring squeeze.

Closing in on them, the Goblin grabs a hold of MJ’s throat and throws her effortlessly to the side, and she crashes into the wall hitting her head, _hard_. MJ’s vision is blurry around the sides from the impact, and she has a hard time getting her body to move; she feels as though she’s underwater. Looking over, she sees the whurr of green metal grabbing Gwen next and, just as abruptly as it came in, it vanishes out into the night with her.

Frozen in place, MJ is utterly stunned and extremely dizzy. She can still hear the faint screaming from Gwen in the distance, and dread floods her.

“ _No_... “ MJ whispers to herself in disbelief, her head pounding. Before she knows it, she is dashing out of her dorm room, bumping into everything on the way and having to brace herself on the furniture and walls. She starts slamming her fists onto Peter’s door, begging for him to be there and to have heard what just happened.

“PETER! PETER, OPEN UP! PLEASE… _Please_ open up...” MJ cries, her voice going from loud and demanding to weak and hopeless when he doesn’t answer. She’s been pounding so hard on his door her knuckles are red and raw, and she knows he’s not home. He would’ve been in their apartment immediately if he were anywhere near.

She runs back to her dorm and into her bedroom, grabbing her cell phone from the pocket of one of her jackets and calls Peter. No answer. She calls him a second time. A third time. A fourth. Nothing.

Defeated, MJ slumps down against the wall and starts to hyperventilate. Her hands balls up into fists and cold sweat builds up on her skin, tears start to pour down her cheeks.

_You will not surrender to fear again this time. Get a grip, MJ. Crying isn’t going to save Gwen._

She allows herself 10 seconds to panic. Whimpering under her breath, she begins to count backwards from 10 in her mind, forcing her breathing to become more regular.

 _10… It has Gwen. 9.... Peter is nowhere to be found. 8… I’m going to pass out. 7… I can’t feel my arm. 6… There’s a hole in my dorm. 5…. You can do this MJ. 4.... All you have to do is get up and find Peter. 3… He can fix this. 2… We need to save Gwen.  1…_ **Gwen _._**

Once the anxiety is less crippling, she gets up and tries to think. Peter is the only one who can stop this, so she needs to find him. It’s a start.

MJ begins going through all of the places she knows Peter goes to in her mind: the ESU lab, the campus library, the Bugle… Her mind stops at the last one, wondering what happened to it after the bombing, if anyone else got hurt or if the paper’s still running, but she quickly comes back to the present situation. There’ll be time to think about that later once Gwen is safe.

Rushing out of the building, still incredibly wobbly on her feet, MJ rushes past the people gathering outside to see what the huge noise was about. She darts to the library first, as it’s closer, already knowing Peter won’t be there, but needing to make sure anyway.

She bursts through the door and calls out Peter’s name. At first she gets dirty looks from students around the room, and then actually gets kicked out by the librarian when she refuses to stop shouting and dropping books from their shelves when she braces herself against them for support.

Her adrenaline is moving her now, despite needing to take it easy after her teared eardrum and the shards of glass still in her arm, and she goes straight to the science lab next. There are only a few people there at this time of night, and MJ doesn’t recognize anyone under the lab coats and protective goggles. She makes her way to the very back, goes into the storage room and comes back out, all the while thinking of other places she can go to find Peter. She notices she’s getting odd looks from everyone; she must look like a frantic madwoman.

One of the students in the lab helps her when she bumps into a counter knocking over some beakers, and MJ knows him from having seen him talking to Peter once or twice. She asks if he’s seen him today, but only receives a negative shake of his head.

Fear turning into anger, she storms out of the building and curses Peter for being so unreachable.

Then she starts to remember that day with Spider-Man. How something almost instinctively told him something was wrong even before it happened. Maybe he already knows? MJ is hopeful at the thought.

She still wants to find him, though, because she’s pretty sure his super powers don’t make him clairvoyant, and there’s really no way to know that Gwen’s the one in danger.

Not knowing where else to go. she quickly goes back up to her dorm and grabs her phone,  searching for Harry’s name in it and making the call. They didn’t leave things on a good note, but there’s no time to even consider that now, especially when he might be able to help find Peter.

There are a lot of rings and MJ is afraid Harry is still too mad at her to pick up, but he does eventually, voice sounding confused, but not angry.

“Hi, it’s me,” MJ starts, not really knowing how to address the bizarre situation, fighting back more tears. “Something’s happened.”

* * *

Harry is in her dorm shortly after the call, and he gasps at the sight of a bloodied MJ, immediately reaching out to her and looking at the injuries. With all the panic, MJ has completely forgotten about her arm. Harry offers to take her to the hospital, but she argues that she’ll go as soon as they get Gwen back; she’s more important than her stupid arm.

Begrudgingly, Harry relents and he looks around the room at the mess of glass, charred furniture and broken belongings. MJ looks around as well, and sees something she hadn’t noticed before. There’s an orange object under the coffee table that she’s pretty sure doesn’t belong to neither her nor Gwen. Walking up to it, she takes it in her hand, and it feels light, fitting in her palm the way a baseball would. It looks like a tiny... _Pumpkin_?

“What do you think this is?” MJ asks, turning to Harry, and his eyes go wide at the sight of the object as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Throw it out, MJ! Throw it out!” he yells, and just as he says that, the little object vibrates in her hand and heats up.

Before she can register what’s happening, Harry runs to her and takes the object from her hands, throwing it across the dorm into Gwen’s room and tackling MJ to the ground, and a second later, another explosion hits.

MJ covers her ears instinctively, hoping to ease the impact on her damaged eardrums, and she feels Harry’s weight on top of her, protectively shielding her.

Looking over to where the blow hit, MJ tries to make sense of what just happened, failing miserably and kicking herself for it.

“What the hell was that?!” She asks, still shaking.

“It… It was a bomb.” Harry replies, getting up from the floor and helping MJ up as well.

“How did you know that was a bomb?” It had looked as innocuous as a fruit to her.

“I’ve seen it before,” Harry admits, running his hands through his hair. “At home.”

MJ is about to ask a million more questions, as she’s getting more confused by the second, but Harry interrupts her thoughts, looking into her eyes with a pained expression she’s never seen before.

“I know who’s doing this,” he says. “And I know how to find him.”

* * *

Arriving at the Osborn mansion, MJ tries to calm herself down and analyze the facts, like she’s been taught to do at school and for the Bugle.

Gwen’s been taken by someone who knows who Peter is, the worst villain New York has ever seen, Harry knows his identity and how to find him, and meanwhile, Peter is nowhere to be found. The odds of this thing turning out okay don’t seem to be much in her favour right now, and the thought shakes MJ to her core.

Walking through the familiar doorway, Harry leads them to the office, the one in which MJ once accidentally bumped into Norman Osborn.

Suddenly MJ stops, realization hitting her.

She remembers Mr. Osborn asking her who she was that day, in a deep, intimidating way and the uneasy feeling in her gut when he left. The same feeling she had when she looked into the big, glowing yellow eyes earlier and heard the words _“Hello, my darling.”_

_It couldn’t be..._

Harry touches some buttons on the high-tech table in the room, and a wall to the left of MJ slides open and reveals itself to be a passageway of some kind.

Leading her into it and overriding all of the security measures as they go from door to door, Harry seems to be muttering something under his breath. MJ steps closer to him to try and make out what he’s saying, and she can hear broken sentences that sound like “...should’ve stopped it”, “...my fault”, “...he can’t do this”.

When the final metal door opens, MJ finds herself inside a huge laboratory. There are machines that go from floor to ceiling all around, computers, slabs, and dangerous-looking concoctions bubbling in test-tubes on the counters.

Walking further back, following where Harry’s going, she steps through some type of plastic curtain you’d see in industrial freezers. The other side has shelves lining the walls, and what’s placed on them makes her heart nearly stop.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of the little pumpkin bombs she found in her dorm are neatly resting on the surfaces. On the wall next to them are various types of weapons that look deadly enough, and two of the hoverboards MJ saw the Goblin floating atop of.

“Harry, what is all this…” MJ asks, even though she knows the answer, fear creeping up her spine.

“I can explain, okay,” he replies, not sounding confident at all, as if he doesn’t believe in what he’s about to say.

“When Spider-Man showed up, he started exposing a lot of the experiments that had gone wrong at Oscorp. Until then, my father’s people were able to keep things under wraps, bribe or threaten the press so the news wouldn’t get out. Whatever attacks happened were made to seem like car crashes or gas explosions, things that happen regularly in a big city. Some witnesses were also bought, and the ones that didn’t keep quiet were considered crazy, because who would believe that a man made out of electricity had destroyed half of Harlem?”

MJ listens intently, remembering those constant headlines on the news that brought little to no details about the huge destruction that seemed to happen every week in different parts of town.

“All of a sudden, there were monsters and attacks that could all be linked back to Oscorp, and my father freaked. He started getting obsessed with Spider-Man, and wanted to take him down for jeopardizing the company. So he used all of Oscorp’s failed experiments with human-enhancing properties he was going to sell the U.S. army and came up with his own. One that would be able to create something that could finish Spider-Man for good.”

Harry is pacing back and forth now, shaking his head and pulling at his hair, gesticulating wildly with his hands. MJ notices they are shaking.

“He didn’t trust anyone with the tests, so he tried the formula on himself. Every time it went wrong he kept getting more obsessed, and would spend days in here. That’s why I started my Oscorp training, because he was never there anymore and someone needed to make the decisions. And the experiments kept making him more volatile and aggressive...”

He pauses when he says that, as if he’s ashamed of what’s coming.

“When you were at the hospital, the day you texted me, I was going to visit first thing in the morning. I had told everyone at Oscorp I was going to be late, maybe not even come in at all, but my father caught me as I was leaving and started yelling about-- I don’t even remember. I was trying to get away from him, and that’s when he hit me.”

MJ narrows her brow, remembering that she saw a bruise on Harry’s face that day, and how strange it was since he was never one to be caught in a brawl. She knew Harry’s and his father’s relationship was strained, but she never thought it was violent. Maybe it really wasn’t until now.

“When I saw the bomb at your place, I knew he’d taken his obsession way too far. He asked me about Peter and Gwen, and Peter’s work for the Bugle the other day and I thought he was just trying to make amends, making conversation and being interested in my friends for a change. Now I know he just wanted information to get to Peter, so he could get to Spider-Man.”

MJ feels her head spinning. That monster who has been terrorizing New York is Harry’s father, and he somehow knows Peter is Spider-Man. This isn’t the sort of thing to happen to someone you know or directly affect you. This is the kind of absurd thing that happens on the pages of newspapers and in movies, far away from real life. And how is Peter supposed to defeat the Goblin now? If he does, he’ll kill his best friend’s father, and MJ suspects this isn’t the sort of thing a friendship can recover from.

Harry walks over to a big console after he’s finished telling MJ the details. He starts clicking buttons and whirring noises fill the air as he types fast into the keyboard.

A couple of minutes pass and MJ feels more restless and confused than she’s ever been in her life. She’s still unable to process all of the information she just got, and her mind is still strained from all the pain she’s in. She’s about to ask Harry what he’s doing when he tells her to follow him and races out of the lab. Looking at the big computer screen that was blocked by Harry’s body before, MJ can read the words TARGET FOUND flashing in red on a digitized map of New York City. The Goblin is on the Brooklyn Bridge.

Taking the fastest car he has, Harry and MJ rush out into the city towards the East River. MJ doesn’t know what they’re going to do once they get there, but she just has to do _something_ , and she can tell Harry feels the same.

They drive in silence; the ride would have been awkward any other day, but given the circumstances, they are both too on edge to even care. After sitting still in the car for some time, MJ starts to feel the severity of her wounds. There are still some shards of glass deep in her flesh, and the cuts are open and some still bleeding. She tries not to look at it, focusing on the road instead. Harry looks over whenever her breath seems to catch from the pain.

They’re about ten minutes away from the bridge when Harry slams on the breaks and MJ looks over at him with confusion.

“MJ, you need to get out.” Harry’s voice is deep and authoritative.

“Excuse me?” MJ says in shock. Out of anything that he could say right now, that’s the last thing she would imagine.

“You’re gonna bleed to death before we even get there, you’ve gotten paler than a sheet since we left. I’m calling someone to come pick you up and take you to the hospital. I’ll take care of my father.

He’s already dialing a number on his phone, and MJ suddenly grows furious. She needs to be there for Gwen and to find Peter, and she doesn’t have time for Harry to play spoiled brat right now. She bats the phone right out of his hand, and it lands on the car floor underneath the driver’s seat. Harry curses and reaches down, trying to get it back, calling MJ stubborn and other names under his breath. Then they both start screaming at each other, arguing over what MJ will do and Harry hits the steering wheel with his fist in frustration at her and at not being able to find his phone. MJ promised herself she’d never allow a man in her life to be violent towards her in any way since her father, so she quickly opens the door on her side and sprints away from the car, leaving Harry behind before anything else could escalate.

She’s going to get to Gwen if it’s the last thing she does.

* * *

The closer she gets to the bridge, the more scared MJ becomes. Harry was right, she’s feeling weak from the blood loss and minor concussion she probably got, and even weaker from the desperate running, there’s no way she’ll be able to do anything for Gwen even if she gets to her in time.

It was stupid of her to run from Harry, and MJ kicks herself over it. She saw him chasing her for a few blocks after she left, but she turned a few corners and took shortcuts through the inside of some abandoned buildings and lost him a few minutes ago. She wishes she hadn’t.

She’s about to turn around to try and find Harry again when a familiar, manic laugh cuts through the air. It’s so loud that she thinks it’s coming right from behind her, but when she turns around, all she sees is a figure flying overhead towards the bridge, and she follows it with the last of her energy.

MJ feels as if she’s about to pass out when she finally gets there, but an image she immediately knows will haunt her for the rest of her life makes her wake up again somehow.

The Goblin is hovering just a few feet above the asphalt on the bridge’s roadway, cackling madly, and Gwen is in his arms, unconscious. The villain seems to be taunting someone, and when MJ looks to whom it is, she sees Spider-Man standing on the ledge, white masked eyes fixed on the scene in front of him. Neither of them seem to notice MJ is there.

The monster suddenly flies away and Spider-Man follows him half a second later, and MJ runs too, not knowing what else to do. Peter is here, and he can fight the Goblin and get Gwen back, she knows he can, and yet she feels that something isn’t right. This isn’t like when she saw him fighting Kraven The Hunter or Sandman, this is someone much more powerful and dangerous, and he’s made it personal.

The traffic has been blocked and the few cars that remain on the bridge have been abandoned by their owners at the sight of the villain. MJ braces herself on them to catch her breath, still following everything happening up in the air.

MJ finds herself praying. She’s never been a particularly religious person, though she enjoyed going to church with her Aunt Anna when she was younger, but this is a situation that requires all the help they can get, she reasons. She begs for God -- she’s not sure which one she’s praying to -- to keep Gwen safe, to keep Peter safe, and that Norman can somehow go back to normal and stop being this monster. She pleads for all of them.

Several minutes pass, and MJ’s eyes are still glued on the fighting figures swooping between the suspension cables above, but footsteps behind her call her attention. Turning back, she sees Harry approaching fast, also looking up.

“Where’s Gwen?” He pants as he stops next to MJ.

“The Goblin’s left her there,” MJ points to the top of one of the bridge’s towers. “She’s passed out.”

Neither know what to do at this point, helplessly standing on the road.

Suddenly, the Goblin speeds towards the tower where Gwen is and Harry and MJ can hear Spider-Man scream “No!”

MJ instinctively reaches for Harry’s hand, and he takes it, holding on tightly, needing the comfort as much as she does.

There’s a scream from up at the tower and MJ recognizes it instantly. It’s the same scream she heard earlier in their dorm. It chills her blood, and she feels tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

_Please let Gwen be okay, please._

A moment later, the Goblin flies by MJ and Harry on the other side of the bridge, right above the water with a petrified Gwen in his arms. Spider-Man can’t follow him there, having nowhere to swing from, so he just stands perched on a cable, and tries to talk to the villain.

“You don’t have to do this!” He says, and MJ has never heard him sound so desperate. His voice shakes after every word. “She has nothing to do with it, it’s me that you want, come fight _me_!”

MJ walks closer to the ledge, hidden by the cars left on the road, and Harry follows her. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it, her body moving of its own accord.

“Dad, please…” Harry whispers from behind her, and MJ looks at Gwen. She’s looking right at Peter, and the sight breaks her heart.

All of a sudden, it’s like everything stops and goes in slow motion. MJ takes one more glance at Gwen, feeling completely empty and hopeless. Then the Goblin releases Gwen from his grip, and her body falls through the sky, and MJ stretches her arms out instinctively towards her as if she could catch her. She hears Harry gasping behind her and Peter screaming, diving in after Gwen.

He shoots a web towards the bridge to hold himself onto, and another at Gwen, who’s screaming in absolute terror. The web catches her by the ankle and the screaming stops abruptly after, and relief warms MJ. Spider-Man is pulling Gwen back up to the bridge. _It’s okay. He has her._

Seconds later, Harry stumbles back, falling on the concrete and covering his mouth. There are tears in his eyes. MJ looks down at him and doesn’t understand why he’s reacting like this. Gwen stopped screaming, she’s okay. Spider-Man saved her. Peter saved her.

A few feet from them, a cry like no other MJ has ever heard cuts through the air, as if coming from a wounded, dying animal, followed by loud, desperate sobbing. Harry is crying now, too and MJ doesn’t understand. Why is everyone acting so weird? Gwen is _fine_ , there’s no need for all of--

And then it hits her.

There was a reason the screaming stopped when Spider-Man caught Gwen, and it wasn’t because she was relieved he had caught her. She remembers one day in Physics class during high school when the professor was trying to explain Newton’s Law of Motion, and he showed a car accident video with crash-test dummies. When a car was hit from behind, the dummies wearing seatbelts would get thrown forward and then back on the seat when the belt stopped them. In the cars that had no headrests, the dummies’ necks would break from the whiplash, because there was no support on the head after the impact happened.

When Peter caught Gwen by the leg as she was falling fast, her body stopped too quickly and, just like the dummies in the video, the force of the halt snapped her neck.

MJ feels her legs giving in, and she falls to the ground, the pavement scraping her knees. _No. No, no, no…. NO._

MJ glances over at Gwen’s limp body in Peter’s arms, but no emotion come to her. She feels as though she’s empty, and her eyes and ears shut down on her. She’s in absolute shock.

As if it were happening somewhere far away, she hears Peter crying, the Goblin speeding away laughing, and Harry helping her up, taking her to his car. She can’t move her limbs and he carries her over, putting her in the backseat and driving back to his house.

Harry has a private doctor look at MJ’s wounds, and take care of them. The physician lets Harry know she’s in shock and might not come to for a few hours, and gives recommendations for when she does.

When he leaves, Harry sits by the bed MJ is lying on, head resting on his hands.

When MJ comes to, she feels as if she’s waking up from a nightmare, and Harry has to tell her what has happened tonight all over again. He tries to be as gentle as possible, but there’s no good way to ever deliver news such as this.

MJ starts to scream, and she screams and screams until her voice is gone, and Harry just holds her. Gwen’s gone. Her best friend is gone. Her _sister_ is gone. And she saw it happen. She will no longer be in anyone’s life and there was nothing MJ could do about it.

Harry eventually drops MJ off at the dorm when it’s almost morning, making her promise to text him as soon as she wakes up so he can know how she is, and any news about Peter.

Their dorm room is still extremely charred, Gwen’s room having been completely obliterated, but somebody had cleaned out everything so it doesn’t look like that much damage was done. There’s white plastic tarp covering the window that was blasted open. But almost all of Gwen’s things are gone.

Harry’s doctor had generously prescribed MJ some drugs that made her sleep, so she takes them to her bedroom, one of the only rooms that was untouched, and she is out all day. As soon as she wakes up, she takes more so she can just go back to sleep. Being awake means dealing with… It. And there’s no way in hell MJ wants to do that.

She wakes up for the third time around 1 in the morning and stretches off her bed to grab the pill bottle, but there are no more inside of it. MJ stares at the empty orange plastic cylinder for awhile, completely detached from everything around her, then abruptly throws it across the room with so much force, it strains her shoulder. It bounces off the wall and lands near her phone. She looks over at it and sees that Harry texted her a few times, but she isn’t in any mood to talk right now. To move. To even exist right now when Gwen doesn’t anymore…

MJ hasn’t cried since it happened, and right now, all she’s doing is sitting upright in bed, staring at the wall. Half an hour passes and she’s still sitting there looking at nothing, completely and utterly numb. Her best friend is gone, and she keeps thinking about how there’ll be no more nights spent going out with her and dancing till they can’t catch their breath anymore. No more laughing until their stomachs hurt. No more sharing their lives together, going shopping, pamper nights, trips, studying. Gwen won’t come striding into the dorm room anymore telling MJ how swamped she is at work and school. She suddenly thinks about the university trying to assign MJ a new roommate, and at the thought, MJ bolts to the bathroom and starts puking into the toilet. It keeps coming out like she’s repelling the very idea of it.

After it’s all out of her system, she leans back against the bathtub and sits in quiet again. However, this time, she can hear something break in Peter’s dorm. There’s a haunting wail that travels through the walls, but it’s muffled by a pillow or a blanket.

As soon as MJ hears the noises coming from him, a large lump forms in her throat and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to breathe. The hurt she feels seems less important now that she thinks of Peter. As guilty as she feels for not having been able to stop the Goblin kidnapping Gwen, Peter must feel it a hundred times more. He had Gwen in his web. It was his web that stopped her too hard and…

Getting up, still dizzy from every single injury she has collected over the past couple of weeks, MJ makes her way to the hallway while leaning on every single wall she’s able to for support. She hesitantly waits at his door, wondering if she should be there for him or leave him alone. MJ rests her forehead on the cool wooden door and ponders it, but she can hear Peter weeping inside. She doesn’t want him to be alone right now, the thought of what the grief might make him do is frightening, so she gently knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and MJ opens it after a few seconds.

She walks inside of the dorm and there are lamps and chairs and other items thrown everywhere, glass shards on the floor and many other things knocked over. MJ knows that Peter’s dorm didn’t get attacked like hers and.. Gwen’s did. This disaster was all caused by Peter.

Standing in the destruction for a second, MJ doesn’t see Peter, so she steps forward over a picture frame, and glances into his bedroom. He’s sat down on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head low in his hands, sobbing.

The sight immediately disarms MJ and the lump in her throat gets tighter and tighter, her stomach clenching in a way that makes her feel like it’s hollow. Tears are now threatening to come, and MJ’s vision is blurred by them.

“Peter…” MJ says quietly. She wants to make herself known so she isn’t intruding on him in this very vulnerable state.

His shoulders go stiff at her voice, but after a few seconds he either doesn’t care, or forgets, and continues to weep.

She slowly walks towards the bed and lingers a few feet in front of him; it’s like approaching a scared and frightened dog. This is _Peter_ , though, so after awhile she maneuvers herself so she’s now sitting beside him on the mattress. They just sit there. No words are said. No glances are met.

Tears start streaming down MJ’s face now, staining her cheeks, but she doesn’t let out a single sound. It’s like any type of noise or word or movement just isn’t worth it now that Gwen’s not in the world. MJ didn’t notice, but Peter is now starting right at her. It isn’t until he says something that she’s interrupted from her thoughts.

“Really, Mary Jane?” His voice sounds venomous.  

MJ is completely confused by his question and his tone. She’s too afraid of saying the wrong thing and making him feel worse, so she just stares at him, her eyes filled with bewilderment.

“ _You_ come here and sit on _my_ bed and _your_ eyes fill with tears? For what? To empathize with me? To comfort me? Are you even capable of doing that? Thinking about other people? I just fucking _KILLED_ …..” He swallows and clears his throat before starting again, “and you think your _presence_ can somehow change that or make me feel better?”

MJ thinks a punch in the face would’ve hurt less.

“Peter, I--” she tries, but he harshly interrupts her.

“I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t _want_ you here. You have _no_ idea what this feels like. Get out.” He spits.

It feels as though MJ’s blood is made out of ice; her body feels cold and she’s too shocked to move.

“Get the fuck out!” Peter yells, and throws a lamp that was sitting on his bedside table across the room. That seems to break him all over again, sobs wracking his body despite him visibly trying to hold them back.

MJ feels incredibly crushed and betrayed. Exasperation boils up inside of her and she feels like storming out and never talking to Peter again, so she begins to. She gets up from the bed and leaves the bedroom as quickly as she can, slamming the door behind her. She makes her way to the front door and just as she turns the doorknob, something inside of her wills her not to go.

She remembers the anger she felt when her own mother died, simultaneously directed at everyone and no one, the want to scream and destroy things around her so she wouldn’t be the only one fragmented, and she gets it. This isn’t Peter at all. This isn’t the boy she knew on the roof, too afraid to break his aunt’s heart over wallpaper. He is hurting, maybe more than MJ will ever be able to fully understand; the layers of guilt and responsibility carved too deep inside of him.

If he doesn’t want her there for him, that’s fine. She can try to understand it no matter how much it tears her to pieces. What he’s feeling right now isn’t about her, and it’s not fair of her to make it so.

So for all that they’ve been through together, she’ll never forgive herself if she just walks away.

She doesn’t end up leaving the dorm; instead, deciding to pick up all the things scattered across and broken on the floor. She throws the shards of glass into a large trash bag with other broken, irreparable belongings. MJ begins organizing the books into piles as best as she can, tidying up other areas of the house until the dorm looks a bit more presentable. After, she walks to the kitchen to start cleaning it up as well.

As she’s doing the dishes, she picks up a glass and notices a pink lipstick mark on it. It’s the same shade of lipstick MJ gave Gwen one of the nights they went out together to escape their problems. MJ has to clutch the side of the counter, and it’s all she can do to focus on anything but crying. That’s when Peter comes through his bedroom door and stares at MJ, pain written all over his face. They spend a few moments looking at each other, understanding that they both are completely and utterly broken.

“Mary Jane, I--” Peter begins, voice wavering, but MJ cuts him off.

“I know, Peter. It’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Death
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! :D

Gwen’s funeral is today.

After coming back from Peter’s dorm a week ago, MJ picked up her phone and saw a voicemail from Harry saying he had taken the responsibility to arrange the ceremony himself. MJ figures he must also feel guilty about what happened, even if what his father does has nothing to do with him.

Harry left the address and time and mentioned there would be a car to pick her and Peter up on the day.

There’s about an hour until the car is supposed to arrive, and MJ has been trying to keep busy. She makes sure Peter is up and dressed; she had placed the same suit he wore to their prom on his bed. She picks up May from the bus stop so she can arrive at the funeral with them. She buys flowers, the same kind Gwen always bought for their kitchen table. Keeping busy is her way of keeping from completely breaking down.

She walks around her dorm trying to find a pair of shoes to go with her dress, purposefully acting as though Gwen’s room doesn’t exist. MJ hasn’t glanced towards her bedroom once since it happened. She can’t, anymore.

A kettle whistles in Peter’s dorm, and MJ makes her way there, taking one last look in the mirror just to make sure she looks appropriate, but not really registering her reflection at all. She locks the door behind her and walks on over to Peter’s place.

May is pouring the hot water into three teacups carefully, and she places them on a tray. Picking it up, she tries to carry them over to the coffee table, but Peter steps in and carries it himself.

He’s been doing better than that first night, but MJ suspects it’s all for his aunt’s sake. She understands why he’s doing it; May has already lost so much, and the last thing she needs is to see Peter crumbling down.

However, living only a few steps away, MJ can still hear him crying at night. Not to mention she’s an expert when it comes to knowing when people are faking being okay; she basically wrote a book on it. MJ goes over to his dorm daily to check on him, to see if he needs anything, but she doesn’t talk about it or bring it up. She will wait until he’s ready to come to her, if he ever will be.

“Three sugars, right?” Peter asks MJ, shaking her from her thoughts.

“Oh, yes, please.” MJ answers and gives him a soft smile. She’s worried about how he will be during the ceremony today.

Peter hands the cup over to MJ and she takes it from him. As she has a sip, the heat feels welcome inside of her stomach. She has been so unbelievably cold lately.

“That was nice of the man at the newspaper to give you and Peter time,“ May says to MJ with a warm smile.

MJ completely forgot about how Betty had left her a message saying that, given the circumstances, she and Peter are welcome to come back whenever they’re ready. It’s not exactly the most important thing on her mind as of late.

“Mhmm,” MJ gives a smile back and takes another sip.

“With Spider-Man not around lately, I doubt they have much to report on, anyways.” May adds, and MJ glances at Peter.

She sees Peter visibly flinch, so she decides to change the subject.

“We should probably head downstairs, the car will arrive any minute now.”

* * *

The service is beautiful and elegant, fitting for someone like Gwen. A lot of people show up, because she had impacted many lives, whether it be Flash she tutored back in high school, or the employees at Oscorp. Everyone loved Gwen.

They stand outside in the graveyard, and it’s a cold winter day. Everyone is bundled up in jackets and there’s puffs of white air whenever somebody breathes. MJ barely notices, though, she hasn’t escaped the cold for a week now.

A priest’s voice speaks loudly through the mourning; it’s a little abrasive to MJ’s ears.

“Gwendolyn Stacy died young. And her death was a senseless one, if any death can be said to have meaning. She will now rest in peace in the eternal quiet of the earth, and…” MJ tunes the man out, not being able to hear another world.

Everyone is softly weeping around MJ; Gwen’s mother is a mess, clutching onto Gwen’s brothers who all look devastated. As the coffin mounted with dozens of flowers is lowered, MJ looks towards Peter, whose head is hung low, staring off into the abyss. Her heart aches, but she promises herself she will remain strong for everybody.

As time passes, people say their goodbyes and leave the premise. Only a few individuals are left over, and by now, Gwen’s grave looks like a garden where she rests beneath.

Gwen’s mother comes over and gives MJ a huge hug while weeping into her hair. She tells MJ how much Gwen loved her, like a sister she never had, and how Gwen had never had a friend like her before. Mrs. Stacy works herself up to another breakdown, so her and her sons have to leave the area.

May gets a ride back to Peter’s dorm by one of Harry’s drivers, and in the end it’s just Harry, MJ and Peter standing in front of Gwen’s grave. None of them say a thing for a long time.

“Do you guys want to go get a burger? On me.” Harry finally breaks the silence.

MJ looks towards Peter who hasn’t taken his eyes off of Gwen’s tombstone for most of the ceremony.

“I think I better go home,” Peter says after a while, his voice distant.

“Come on, Pete. I don’t think being alone would help any of us right now,” MJ reasons, and Peter looks up for the first time all day. He looks at MJ with glossy eyes, and MJ adds, “You really should eat something.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe just for a bit.” He replies, and Harry gets his driver.

* * *

They sit down in their normal booth at this old diner they used to go to off of West 51st street. When the waitress approaches, Harry asks for four burgers. They all realize the mistake immediately, but nobody says anything.

They sit in silence, all trying to avoid looking at Gwen’s empty spot next to MJ. She looks across the table at her two best friends. Harry looks like he hasn’t slept in days, but his suit is as crisp and well-fitted as always. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Glancing over at Peter, he looks pretty emotionless. At least MJ knows how he’s feeling late at night when he screams and cries; it’s when he has a vacant expression and doesn’t say anything that scares her.

The burgers are ready, and the waitress brings them over, placing them in front of the three. She holds onto the fourth burger and looks at the group.

“Are you guys waiting for somebody?” She asks them.

Nobody says anything, and the waitress lingers until it gets too awkward, so she just places the burger down at Gwen’s spot and tells them to enjoy their meal before leaving.

None of them feel very hungry at all, and the burgers just sit idly on the table, but the company feels nice, despite the circumstance.

The quiet continues for about an hour with only a few words shared, until Peter gets up and mutters an apology, leaving the diner. Harry gets up, too, leaving too much money on the table to pay for their bill and asks if MJ wants a ride home, and heading out when she declines. MJ slumps down on the booth, looking out the window, feeling more alone than ever.

She goes home on foot, and she’s thankful it takes her a long time to get there; now that the funeral is done, she has to accept that Gwen is really gone, go back to an empty apartment and go on with her life. She just doesn’t feel like she can do it.

As MJ goes to unlock her door, she sees a notice from the school taped onto it. Because of the damage done to the place from the Goblin, the university is asking MJ to relocate for awhile in a week, so they can fix things. Since there are no rooms available on campus, they have contacted the person in her emergency list and May (who MJ didn’t even know was on the list in the first place) has agreed to take her in for a while.

Feeling confused, MJ walks into her room to retrieve her phone, and sees missed calls from May and the Dean’s office. She calls May back and asks about the offer, and she’s about to say she couldn’t possibly accept it when she sees one of Gwen’s coats hanging on the back of the armchair in the living room. MJ’s heart drops. She decides to go.

* * *

A week later when it’s time to leave the dorm, MJ packs lightly, only taking the absolute necessities, and leaves a note under Peter’s door letting him know where she’ll be if he needs her. She texts Harry to let him know as well, and he offers to have a car pick her up, but she declines.

Deciding to get on the bus, MJ bundles up in a coat and a scarf and heads onto the public transit. It takes a while to get to Queens, but MJ, despite the orders given from the doctor, blares the Taylor Swift song her and Gwen danced to once on repeat to distract her from her thoughts.

The bus lets her out at the last stop, and she has to walk the rest of the way to the all too familiar street she grew up on. MJ sticks her hands in her coat pocket, trying to regain warmth in them. She’s finally made it to May’s house, but before she walks all the way, she stops in front of her old childhood house.

The lawn is covered with frozen leaves, beer cans and a pile of newspapers on the front step. She wonders to herself if her father has even looked at the Bugle once or noticed her name in it. Probably not.

She rolls her eyes and walks the other 30 steps to May’s front door.

Knocking three times, MJ is immediately flooded with dozens and dozens of memories being at this house, her and Peter being best friends. So much has changed since then.

“MJ, dear!” May says excitedly after she has opened the door. She has a dish rag in her hands and shuffles forward and welcomes MJ into a hug. MJ holds onto May for a fraction longer than one would for a friendly hug.

“This is going to be so fun. Just us girls. Can I get you a drink?” May asks MJ as they both walk into the house. “I wish I wasn’t busy earlier today, I could have helped you pack and drive you!”

“No way, May, I do _not_ want you going out of your way for me this week. If anything, it’s going to be the other way around. Get ready to be pampered.” MJ tells her as she sets her stuff down on the couch.

May looks at MJ with loving eyes and smiles. “We will be there for each other, alright? Now, go take your stuff upstairs, you can stay in Peter’s room.”

Peter’s room. As if there weren’t enough memories around the house.

MJ climbs the old creaky stairs to the second floor and she looks at all the pictures hanging on the wall like she did when she first came to the Parker household. She can practically see Peter growing up before her eyes with the amount of pictures of him in different ages. There are several photos of Ben as well, and he’s smiling in all of them. MJ’s heart clenches a little. She didn’t know him for too long, but he always treated her with kindness and was so joyful all the time.

As MJ reaches the last step, she notices a frame with a familiar face, but it takes her a while to recognize who it is. The picture was clearly taken in the Parkers’ dining room; the wallpaper and china cabinet giving it away. The person in the photo wasn’t aware that the picture was being taken; the smile is candid and the demeanor is natural and comfortable. Coming a little closer, MJ suddenly recognizes who it is. It’s her.

She doesn’t remember when the picture was taken, but she guesses it must have been when she came over for dinner for the first time. It seems like years ago, now. She had felt like part of a real family that day, but always figured it was one-sided. MJ never thought they would consider her family, too.

The faintest flicker of warmth fills MJ for the first time since everything has happened, which makes her feel guilty, so she looks forward and heads towards Peter’s old room.

It’s the exact same way she remembers it. The race car bed sheets and wallpaper. Unfinished trinkets everywhere.

She glances at his desk and sees the photograph of herself that Peter took without her knowledge during that Oscorp field trip in a frame. Right beside it is a picture of Harry and Peter that MJ took sometime in high school at one of their sleepovers. And right next to that one, there’s one of Gwen. She’s smiling from ear to ear in it and looks incredibly happy. It’s back when she used to wear all of those headbands.

MJ can’t stand the sight of it, it’s too soon and hurts too much, so she reaches for the frame and puts it away in one of the drawers.

Walking over to the window, she can see her old bedroom on the other side, her few remaining belongings still left intact, if not dusty. Like no one has bothered to open the door or window since she left.

Sadness creeps up inside of her like vines, and she’s too tired from all that’s happened today to try and fight it. MJ makes the bed for herself and lies down, only bothering to take off her shoes. May won’t mind if she doesn’t say goodnight tonight.

Over the next few days, May and MJ make a little routine for themselves. They will eat their lunches together on the comfy sofa in the living room while watching television together. MJ doesn’t care what they watch, she just enjoys the company. They make supper together, and MJ always blushes when she retrieves something out of the refrigerator and sees all of hers and Peter’s Bugle pages cut out neatly and plastered on it. May has taught her a few tricks in the kitchen that doesn’t make MJ completely useless when it comes to cooking anymore. MJ even helps May study, as she has expressed interest in wanting to become a nurse and has been taking night classes a few times a week.

MJ hasn’t gone to school or the Bugle for several days now. She hasn’t even bothered checking up to see if she still has a job at the diner. May encourages her to try and get caught up in school, but MJ usually shrugs it off with a “maybe” or a “perhaps tomorrow”. Holiday break is coming up soon anyway, so MJ thinks she will take an extended one.

The truth is, work and school may as well be Mount Everest to her; the thought of getting out of this house alone makes her want to curl up in bed and never get up from it. MJ has felt tired and overwhelmed before, but this is different. It’s as if she’s a car running only on fumes, and the most mundane things take up all of the energy she has. The utter lack of vitality seems to be seeping into her bones.

She gets a few messages from Harry every day making sure she’s alright and if there’s anything he can get her. Nothing from Peter, though. She would be worried, if it wasn’t for her eavesdropping on May’s daily check in phone calls to him.

“Peter, dear, how are you?” She can hear May in the kitchen one morning as she’s coming down for breakfast. By the quickness of the reply, MJ can tell Peter didn’t have much to say.

“Will I be expecting you next week for Christmas break?” The old woman’s voice is hopeful.

“Excellent. I am making all of your favourites. Extra gravy, and those sweet potatoes with the marshmallows you adore!”

MJ is interrupted from her snoop session with her own phone call. She looks down at the caller ID to see it’s the school. Her stomach clenches and she debates not answering, but deep down she knows she doesn’t want to throw away her future.

“Hello?” MJ answers, voice still hoarse from just waking up.

“Miss Watson, this is Mrs. Dillon from Empire State University. There have been some… Unexpected push backs with your dorm room. There seems to be some sort of chemical that the bomb released and, well, the renovations will not be completed until after holiday break. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Uh… Ok. You gotta do what you gotta do, right? Thanks.”

MJ hangs up the phone. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do or where she’s going to stay. There’s no way she can impose on May’s hospitality for another week or two, especially during the holidays. She then remembers the picture of her hung up on May’s wall... As much as MJ would love to be here for Christmas, she couldn’t possibly ask.

“Who was that, dear?” May turns the corner to see MJ sat on the staircase.

“Oh. The school. They’ll have to work on the dorm for a while longer. Something about chemicals to do with the bomb. Don’t worry, though, I can find somewhere else to sta--”

“Nonsense, MJ!” May cuts her off before she can finish her sentence. “You will stay put for however long you need.”

“That’s very sweet of you, May, but I heard that Peter’s coming over for the holidays, and I don’t want to--”

“He can stay on the couch, dear. We would love to have you for the holidays. Besides, I am really enjoying the company around the house. You’re staying and that’s final.” May decides, and she walks back around the corner into the kitchen.

MJ sits there and a smile creeps up onto her lips for the first time in a long while. Maybe she does have a family.

* * *

A few snowy days have passed and it’s finally Christmas break; MJ has read a lot of books, and even started writing bits and pieces for what could potentially be a novel in the future. She’s kept herself so busy she doesn't even realize where the time has gone. There’s something refreshing about being out of the city and staying home with no other obligations. It makes her forget about her regular life where destruction had taken place.

MJ checks the Bugle website constantly. It’s a wonder it’s up and running so fast after the explosion, but she guesses Jameson would never let that stop him, and would run the paper from his basement if he needed to. It’s pretty inspiring, actually.

She can’t help but notice the lack of Spider-Man in it, though, and the Goblin. It’s terrifying, to think that the monster is still out there somewhere, keeping quiet. MJ has never wished death upon anyone before, but…

MJ closes her laptop quickly; there’s no chance she will allow these thoughts absorb her. The last few weeks with May have been a great distraction for everything, and there’s darkness enough in her mind and her life without adding that sort of thinking to it.

Wanting to do something other than sit in front of the computer, MJ gets up from Peter’s bed and steps out of the room. She walks down the stairs and sees May in Uncle Ben’s arm chair with her eyes closed, so she decides to start on dinner.

If you would have told MJ that she would’ve been making supper a few weeks ago, she would probably laugh in your face. Yet, she starts cooking some chicken and mashed potatoes with some veggies as if she’d been doing it for years. As she’s boiling the spuds, she looks up at the calendar hanging on the wall and sees a red circle around today’s date. She squints and bends over to look at what it says.

_Peter comes home!_

Right. Peter will be here tonight. MJ feels completely out of place now. She doesn’t think that Peter will want to see her, but here she is in his childhood home, impossible to avoid. All she wanted was to give him space, be there if he needed her, let it be on his terms, but now it seems as if she’s trying to force herself--

“Mary Jane Watson? _Cooking_?!” She hears Peter say from the kitchen entrance.

She looks towards him bundled up in a coat, cheeks red from the cold, backpack on the floor by his feet with a few Christmas presents under his arm. She didn’t even hear him enter; guess it has to do with the whole spider-like attributes.

“I’ll have you know, I’m quite good now, thank you,” She states with her hand on her hip glaring at him. Just as she does, the pot of potatoes boils over, making a mess on May’s stove and kitchen floor.

MJ frantically turns her attention back to the cooking and grabs the pot, nearly burning her fingers right off, and brings it to the sink. Too embarrassed to look back at him, she starts to drain them, and turns the tap on to relieve the burning sensation.

“Yeah. You’re a real Julia Childs.” Peter states sarcastically, walking up to the fridge and grabbing some ice cubes from the freezer. He pops some of the ice into a zipper-shut plastic bag.

“C’mere,” he says, gently taking MJ’s hands in his and placing the bag on the burns. The temperature shock almost hurts for a second, but Peter’s thumb lightly running over the skin of her wrist soothingly is all MJ can really focus on.

She looks up at him and the air immediately changes, and things turn awkward in a second as though a switch has flipped. Peter mumbles a “Keep it iced for a few minutes,” before he grabs his backpack and starts to walk upstairs.

“Oh, _wait_!” MJ loud-whispers, as May is still asleep. She walks out into the living room to see Peter perched on the third step.

“I kind of.. Have been staying in your room. There was a problem with the dorm and I had nowhere to stay and I just-- I can definitely move to the couch, though.” She feels horrible for taking over his bedroom and is almost climbing up the stairs to move her things, but Peter replies quickly.

“Nah, it’s all good, I’ve always found this couch more comfy, anyway.”

She watches him as he strides on over to the sofa, placing all of the things he brought over onto it. He unzips his coat and walks over to put it in the coat hanger. It has been over a month since… _It_ happened, and he looks less wounded as he did those earlier weeks, but MJ knows better.

She spins around and heads back to the kitchen, placing another chicken breast into the pan. Peter comes in a few minutes later and hops up on the counter to sit on it, completely ignoring that he’s way too big to do so.

“Got to say, Red, I’m impressed.” He says after he watches her cook for awhile.

MJ has never heard Peter call her that before, but she doesn’t want to bring it up in case it embarrasses him and he goes back into his shell. The fact that he even wants company right now is huge. Maybe he realizes that people are going to be there for him, and he doesn’t have to go through everything alone.

“Well, you have your aunt to thank for this. She and I have been bonding over the last couples of weeks, and she’s been teaching me a lot of stuff,” MJ says as she stirs the peas and carrots.  
“Yeah, yeah, she told me you were here. Sorry I didn’t visit sooner, I just--” Peter trails off.

“Don’t sweat it, Pete.”

They stay in comfortable silence for a while longer, MJ finishing up dinner and jokingly batting Peter’s hand away when he tries to eat something off of the cooking pan. Things almost feel normal again, until she looks up at Peter to see his undereye circles looking pretty bad, as if he hasn’t slept in a month. She supposes he really hasn’t, and it’s obvious why; it’s the same reason she stays up late every night, working until exhaustion. It’s harder to relive memories if you’re so tired you’re mainly concentrating on not passing out.

Once supper is ready, they set the table and MJ walks out into the living room to wake May up, but she finds her already awake, knitting what looks to be a scarf and smiling softly. MJ has a suspicion that it’s because she and Peter were laughing together in the kitchen only a few minutes ago.

“Supper is ready.” MJ says, putting her hand on May’s shoulder.

“You don’t know how nice it is to not have to cook a meal for a change!” May says excitedly.

“Hey!” Peter’s voice comes from around the corner. “I’ve made you pasta before,” he says in mock-hurt.

“Instant noodles don’t count, Peter Benjamin Parker!” May jokes, and Peter clutches his chest.

MJ leads May to the dining room table and has her sit down despite her protesting to help. Peter helps MJ bring everything to the table, grabbing all of the warm things. If MJ didn’t know better, she’d think Peter is deliberately grabbing all the hot dishes so she can’t burn herself again. She rolls her eyes to herself while smiling, and brings out the beverages, plates and cutlery.

They all sit down together, May saying grace before they eat, mentioning how she’s blessed to have two of her favourite people with her for the next week, and thankful for not having to cook tonight. After the ‘Amens’, Peter starts shoveling food down his throat like it’s his last meal on earth. _At least he’s eating_ , MJ thinks to herself as she looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

May praises MJ on how great the meal is, and Peter nods in agreement, mouth being too full to actually say anything.

* * *

MJ starts to brush her teeth in the only bathroom in the Parker household, having already changed into her flannel pyjamas. She looks at her reflection in the mirror in front of her and it’s a different person than she has gotten used to during the past few weeks. Her cheeks are still a little sunken from not eating well, but she’s definitely gaining some of the weight back being here at May’s. Her hair is up in a messy bun, she doesn’t even bother doing it lately, and her face is pale and makeupless, but the colour is coming back to her cheeks, a flush that hadn’t been there in a long time. MJ didn’t even realize how poorly she took care of herself until right now. Now that she’s starting to see a little life behind her eyes again. Now that she feels like she’s a part of this family.

Peter comes into the bathroom with his toothbrush in his hand, and MJ scoots herself over so they can share the sink.

“Want to watch a movie?” Peter asks as he squeezes a lot more toothpaste than needed onto his toothbrush.

MJ looks at him and stops brushing her teeth, her toothbrush still hanging out of her mouth. She had gotten so used to Peter pushing her away and shutting himself off. It’s how he’s always dealt with things: Ben, her finding out about Spider-Man, Gwen… She always gave him his space, she never wanted to force anything onto him, but always trying to let him know she would be there for him if he wanted her to be. Did it pay off?

“Erm… Yeah!” MJ says with a mouthful of toothpaste, accidentally spitting some in his direction.

“Say it, don’t spray it, Red.” Peter laughs, and he places his toothbrush in his mouth.

They brush their teeth together and spit in unison, making each other snort and giggle. Once they’re done, they go back downstairs to the living room and MJ settles herself onto the sofa. She grabs the knitted blanket hanging on the back of it and drapes it over herself while Peter shuffles through his backpack.

MJ glances over to see Peter with an armful of sweets, and MJ knows May doesn’t keep this sort of thing in the house. He most likely brought them in himself, and she doubts he would buy all of this stuff just for him. It’s almost as if he was planning this movie night. Her stomach does a weird flip at the thought.

“So, Lost in Translation orFerris Bueler?” Peter asks, holding up two DVDs in front of him. MJ hasn’t seen either of the movies, and she doesn’t particularly care which one they watch. Looking at Peter’s expectant eyes, though, she pretends to think long and hard about her choice.

After a lot of “hmmm”ing, she decides she wants to hear Peter laugh more, so she states she wants to watch “Ferris Wheeler” and Peter rolls his eyes with a smirk.

Peter seems happy with the choice, though, and puts the disc into the DVD player, quickly sitting down next to MJ. He offers her a chocolate from the large bag he’s holding once it starts, eyes glued to the screen, so she digs her hand into it to retrieve some.

The movie ends up being funny like MJ suspected, and Peter laughs a lot. MJ laughs too, but it has a lot less to do with the movie and more with seeing Peter’s face lighting up after so long.

It feels good to laugh again. MJ allows herself to be engulfed in the now, and remember everything that had happened later. It’s always in the back of her mind, but she starts to feel warmer.

The credits start rolling, and both of their bellies hurt from too much candy and too much laughing by the end of the movie. They feel too sluggish to get up, so Peter just turns the DVD player off and switches the TV to a random channel.

“So, I haven’t seen you at school recently.” Peter states while lowering the volume.

 _He wants to talk. First he wanted to hang out, and now he wants to talk!_ MJ thinks to herself.

“Yeah, I just… Wait, you’re going to school?” MJ asks, surprised.

“I’m normally just in the lab working on stuff. I looked for a you few times at that coffee place you’re always at and never saw you, though.”

MJ really wants to talk to him, tell him that she just can’t go back to school as if nothing had happened. That she can’t imagine being in her dorm without Gwen there. That every day seems harder than the one before, but she doesn’t want to bring this stuff up now that they are finally talking and in a good mood again.

The colours of the TV reflect and dance on the side of Peter’s face and MJ glances over to the television and sees a broadcast of attacks to a nearby neighbourhood. Her eyes narrow and she grabs the remote, turning the volume up.

The reporter describing the destruction states it has been caused by another scientific experiment gone wrong who they’re calling Doctor Octopus. With four extra metal limbs sprouting out of his body, “Doc Ock” can move above cars and climb over buildings. His claw-ended tentacles are easily grabbing vehicles and tossing them as though they weigh nothing.

MJ looks back to the side to see Peter look at the screen, then away as unbothered as if he were reading the ingredients in the chocolates they were just eating. He lets out a deep exhale and leans his head back to rest on the couch and closes his eyes.

“Pete...” MJ starts, but Peter doesn’t allow her.

“Mary Jane, don’t.”

Screams come from the TV and MJ flinches, and Peter’s eyes clench shut even tighter. It’s clearly bothering him, too, despite the nonchalant behaviour.

“Tiger, it’s not your job, but--”

“You’re right, Mary Jane, it isn’t my job. So drop it.” Despite the harshness of the words, his voice sounds more nervous and unsure than malicious, like he isn’t convinced about it himself.

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV, and silence fills the room.

“Can we at least talk about this?” MJ asks, hopeful. This isn’t Peter. Spider-Man is a part of who he is, she knows that now, and he can’t start moving on until he realizes that he can’t throw that part of him away. He needs to realize it wasn’t Spider-Man’s fault for _that_ day. Spider-Man brings hope to people, not despair.

“I’m actually pretty tired.” He tells her, not meeting her eyes. He gets up and retrieves the blanket and pillow from the hall closet and plops them down on the side of the couch, still unable to look at MJ.

MJ bites her lip and looks at Peter, pain spreading all across her body despite the great day they just had. He’s closing her out again and it feels like she’s holding on for dear life, but she doesn’t want to force him into anything. She gets up from the sofa and stands there for a second longer.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, Peter. There are so many people that love you and who can be here for you.” She walks closer to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t shut me out, okay?” She whispers, looking at him, but he doesn’t meet her eyes and looks away as tears spring up.

She drops her hand and walks upstairs to Peter’s bedroom. MJ will not give up on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

MJ wakes up the next morning and lies in bed for a little while before getting up for the day. The embarrassment sinks in, not wanting to get up to face Peter right now after everything that had happened last night. Getting everything off her chest was something she was glad about, finally being able to tell him that he can rely on her instead of only implying it, but his shutting her out makes her feel like she’s done something wrong.

There’s a knock on the door that shakes MJ out of her thoughts, and she sits upright in bed.

“Come in!” MJ yells.

May opens the door and greets MJ with a large smile.

“Good morning, dear, I hope I didn’t wake you,” May says earnestly.

“Nope, I’m up, just being lazy. ‘Sup?”

“I was wondering if you and Peter could drive to the grocery store today for me. Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and I need to start prepping for our big feast! I’ve made a list if you don’t mind.”

MJ’s face starts to feel hot; flustered at the thought of being alone with Peter again. However, she can’t deny May when she has gone above and beyond for her.

“Of course, May. Let me just get dressed.”

MJ has a quick shower and dresses herself in wool tights, a large sweater, and some sturdy winter boots. She never could take the cold all too well, so she makes sure to take a scarf, too. She meets Peter at the front door, and it’s the first time they’ve seen each other since last night. He’s avoiding her eyes again, so MJ decides to pretend nothing happened and let him talk about it if he wants to.

They say goodbye to May, then leave the warm house and walk towards May’s big, old car.

“Want me to drive?” MJ asks, and Peter hands her the keys.

“Probably for the best. I never got my license.” Peter admits while he kicks some snow with his boot.

“Yeah, you probably had other means of transportation…” MJ says under her breath, and by Peter sucking his lips into his mouth to suppress a laugh, she can tell he heard her.

The drive is short, and by the time MJ musters up enough courage to try and start a conversation about anything other than last night with Peter, they’re already at the store’s parking lot and Peter’s leaving the car. MJ sighs and follows him, May’s list in hand.

Peter walks right through the sliding doors leaving MJ behind, so she turns towards the carts to grab one. Once she has it, she tries to catch up with Peter, but he’s nowhere to be found. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she decides to start getting the ingredients.

MJ goes down aisle by aisle, collecting and checking things off of May’s list; she has already gathered up half of the things on it when Peter finally appears. He’s coming towards her in aisle 8 by the canned goods and has his arms behind his back as he’s looking right at MJ. She looks at him skeptically as they get closer.

MJ is about to ask why he’s staring at her like that when he reveals what he was hiding behind his back, and it looks like a card. He hands it to her, and she takes, seeing it say “Mary Jane” on the front in his sloppy handwriting.

She looks back up at the boy with the extremely messy hair and she raises an eyebrow. MJ starts to pull the card out of the envelope and sees a cute kitten on the front. In large print, the words “I’m Sorry” are above it. She opens the card fully to see his handwriting again.

_“Sorry for being a huge dick, Mary Jane. Forgive me?_

_Peter”_

She looks at his signed name on the card for a long time after reading it, and can feel her throat tighten a little. When she finally looks up from the paper, she can see Peter do his classic “scratch the back of his neck” thing.

“So, yeah, what else do we need to get?” Peter asks, avoiding looking at the card in her hands at all costs.

“Peter…”

“Did Aunt May remember to put cranberry sauce on the list? She better have remembered to put it on the list.” The fact he’s trying so hard to pretend that what just happened didn’t happen makes MJ have the biggest grin on her face.

“Peter.”

“I see you got that turkey. But that definitely isn’t big enough. We gotta go back and get a different one, I mean, we don’t wanna be stuck with a loser turkey, you know? All of his turkey friends will make fun of him and--” He babbles, pointing at the frozen bird.

MJ walks around the shopping cart and stops in front of Peter. She wraps her arms around his waist and gives him a bear hug, nearly getting lost in his scent. It’s the first time that they’ve hugged in a very long time, and MJ doesn’t want to let go. He hesitates for a long time at first, but he eventually wraps his arms around her, too.

Reluctantly, MJ lets go of him, and he only puts his arms down after she does.   
“So, let’s get a new turkey, you turkey.” MJ says as she goes back to the cart and pushes it alongside Peter.

As they go up and down the other aisles, Peter keeps putting random junk food and other things that aren’t on the list in the cart, but MJ makes him put them back.

“How about some licorice?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Fruit Roll-ups?”

“No.”

“Oatmeal Cookies?”  
“Negative.”

“Sardines?”

_“Peter…”_

MJ knows he is only saying this stuff to be silly, and the fact she can see little glimpses of the old Peter is making her hopeful.

After they get everything May asked for, they make their way to till. The place is packed with people doing their last-minute shopping and the lines are long, so Peter decides to play a game they used to play in high school: you have to choose someone around you and make up a story as to why they’re here right now, and it has to be a creative one.

He starts the game, choosing an old lady to his right. She looks to be around 80 years old, and her basket has only an air-freshener and a carton of orange juice. Peter makes up a story about how the lady is actually a mobster, and she just had a violent reckoning at her house with two people winding up dead, and the air-freshener is to help get the smell of blood and sweat off of her antique-packed living room.

“And what about the orange juice?” MJ asks, her arms crossed trying not to laugh.

“Well, she needs something to drink, doesn’t she?” Peter retorts, but MJ isn’t convinced.

“That’s so lame! Okay, my turn.”

* * *

They arrive back at the house in much better spirits than when they left. They enter through the front door with their arms full of grocery bags, laughing about the man who, according to MJ’s story, was only at the grocery store to hide from an alien chicken that had landed in his backyard and that kept laying evil eggs that turn people into poultry when eaten.

“God, that was so incredibly stupid.” Peter can barely say in between laughs.

May looks up from the scarf she is knitting and smiles, clearly over the moon about seeing Peter laughing, and watches the two of them take everything into the kitchen.

“A lot more believable than that old lady being a _mobster_.” MJ retorts.

“You don’t know that. She was giving me that death vibe…” Peter defends himself.

“Maybe it was because she was, like, 80.” MJ says, looking at him.

This sets them off into another fits of giggles.

They start to put away all the groceries they bought on their trip in a comfortable silence. MJ grabs the apples, but before she knows it, the entire bag is slipping out of her fingers. Peter is there in mere seconds, catching it just below her hands.

MJ looks up at him, watching how flustered he’s getting as he throws the apples into the crisper.

“So… Are you and Harry still--?” Peter obviously tries to change the subject.

MJ looks away from him, occupying herself with grabbing some cans and putting them in the pantry.

“No. That ended a while ago.” MJ barely gets out as Peter’s reply is immediately after.

“I think that’s for the best.”

For the best? She doesn’t exactly know how to take that, but she doesn’t want to delve into it.

They continue putting things away, the silence a little heavier after that exchange. A fight against the freezer to store the oversized turkey Peter insisted on getting lightens up the mood a bit, though. It ends nearly an hour later with MJ holding about a dozen cold items in her arms that were once in the refrigerator and Peter nearly bending the appliance out of shape to fit the frozen bird.

They’re both feeling pretty proud of themselves when Aunt May walks into the kitchen. She inspects what they’ve done and calmly says, “You do know that the turkey needs to be in the sink overnight so it can defrost, otherwise I can’t cook it, right?”

May walks out of the kitchen and Peter and MJ’s faces deflate like a balloon, while May’s laughter fills the house.  

* * *

The next morning, May has everyone waking up early to start helping her make Christmas Eve dinner, with only minor complaining from one Peter Parker about how you’re not supposed to get up before noon on national holidays.

The three of them move to the kitchen, and Aunt May starts preparing the turkey, MJ the stuffing, and Peter is just lingering around, taking bits and pieces here and there to eat, avoiding getting a smack from May or MJ.

MJ had thought about what she was going to get Peter and May for Christmas for a long time. She had probably gone back and forth in her mind at least a dozen times when it came to Peters, because what do you get for the people who mean the most to you? But she finally decided on something and is excited for tomorrow to come so she can give it to them, but nervous at the same time. She’s so flustered about it that she nearly cuts half of her finger off as she peels the yams.

“Careful, Red.” Peter says when he sees MJ flinch.

“Would’ve been nice if you could’ve warned me. You know. Some kind of _sense_.” MJ says under her breath, quiet enough so May doesn’t hear.

He looks at her and narrows his eyes jokingly.

Since the turkey takes a long time to cook, May shoos everyone from the kitchen and into the dining room to start straightening it up and setting the table. She also takes advantage of how helpful they’re being in the spirit of the holidays to get them to fix up the house as well. It doesn’t take long for them to finish it, though, Peter having done most of the work since whenever MJ had the really straining tasks she would exaggeratedly bat her eyelashes at him and he’d do them with a jokingly exasperated sigh, but really not minding it, spider-powers allowing him more stamina than most.

When they’re done, May tells them to get ready, as dinner will be served in a few minutes. Peter and MJ take turns using the shower and Peter’s room to get dressed. He goes first while MJ sits in the living room, flipping through the channels on the TV but not really watching anything. When he’s finished, he comes downstairs and MJ is surprised at how dressed up he is for such an informal dinner (and for being, you know, _Peter_ ). He’s wearing jeans and Converse as he always does, but he has on a very nice caramel leather belt, a plain blue shirt and a very smart black blazer over it. For the first time MJ can remember, he looks like a grown up.

It makes her want to put in the effort too, so she goes upstairs to take a shower and then rummages through her clothes for something nice. She finds a dress she has never worn before. It’s red and it stops just before the knees. The fabric is plain, but there is a layer of red lace over it, and the ¾ sleeves are all lace as well. She bought it months ago, meant for wearing whilst attending the Bugle Christmas party, but she and Peter never went.

She decides to wear her hair down and wavy, closer to what it naturally looks like, and pretty but light makeup, mostly just some winged eyeliner and mascara to define her eyes, a soft peachy blush and sheer red lipstick. MJ puts on some flats and makes her way downstairs where the smell of a home-cooked meal greets her, making her stomach do little somersaults of happiness.

The table looks amazing, with more food than they could possibly hope to eat. There’s the turkey, taking up most of the space, but there is also the yams and mashed potatoes, asparagus and other veggies, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and they each get their own gravy boat.

May looks really nice, too, with a simple dark green dress and her hair in a half updo, making her look younger. When she notices MJ coming down the stairs, she nudges Peter to look. When he does, his hand holding the dish he was just about to set on the table stops midair for so long, that May has to take it and put it down herself before Peter burns himself with it.

His eyes on her make her feel shy all of a sudden, which is not normal for her, and MJ tries to fight a flush rising on her cheeks. Walking over to the table, she compliments the food as everyone takes their seats and May says grace, thanking for the food, the company and the love filling her house tonight.

The meal is lovely, the three of them chit chatting, blushing and laughing at May’s childhood stories of Peter. Or at how MJ tried making pasta the other day and burned the tomato sauce. It feels like a real family and MJ gets to thinking about how they all came to be here and the unconventional families that aren’t made out of blood ties.

Peter’s father was Ben’s brother, and so that means May is only his aunt by marriage, but MJ has never seen someone be more of a mother than May to Peter. She never expected to have to raise a child, not wanting to ever have children of her own, but one day Peter’s parents just dropped him off when he was only six years old and never returned. MJ can only imagine how that would turn someone’s life completely upside down. But she knows May wouldn’t have it any other way.

MJ also thinks of Peter, being inexplicably left at his relative’s house so young and never knowing why. Having to get used to unanswered questions and a different family, only to lose the only father figure he truly had before even coming out of adolescence and having to care for an elderly aunt before learning to take care of himself.

And she inevitably thinks of her own family, how they have never been more than strangers to her, each with their own demons blinding them to what or who was around. It made MJ think her destiny was to be alone in the world. And then, after finally getting someone she could call a sister, she lost her too.

Yet, they find themselves here, after all of the pain and twists of life, hearts full of love and bellies sore with laughter, against all odds, the definition of a true family.

* * *

After eating too much and deciding to leave the dishes to be done some time later, May, MJ and Peter move to the living room, because Peter has decided to take pictures of the three of them together. While he sets up the tripod for his camera, MJ touches up on her makeup and May on her hair, the two looking like teenagers getting ready for a night out.

When Peter’s all set up, he guides them to the couch where he sits in the middle, May to his right and MJ to his left. He starts snapping pictures with the camera’s remote control, making funny faces in every single one, getting laughs out of the girls, but he manages to not be silly for one of the pictures and it turns out to be the best one.

The three of them were all amused at Peter’s shenanigans, so the smiles are loose and natural, and Peter has his arms around May’s and MJ’s shoulders, bringing them closer to him. It’s everyone’s favourite when Peter is going through the shots in the camera, and MJ makes a mental note to ask him for a copy, never having been in a family portrait before.

May announces she’s exhausted, kissing MJ and Peter both on top of their heads. She tells them to go to bed soon, otherwise Santa won’t come, before going upstairs.

MJ decides to get ready for bed too, despite it only being 8:30 P.M.. She removes her makeup, puts on her sweat pants and shirt, and ties her hair up in a messy bun. She sits on Peter’s bed and stares out at the sky through the open curtains. MJ’s mind surprises her and goes to a thought she hasn’t willingly thought about in a while. Her father.

She thinks of him sitting just mere feet away from her. It’s Christmas Eve, and she wonders if he knows that himself. Her family was never one for holiday celebrations, but she does have one memory of when she was around four years old. Her mother had made an effort to decorate the house and cook a nice meal for the first time in years. MJ’s dad had gone along with it for awhile, picking her up so she could put the big star at the top of the Christmas tree in their living room. She remembers sitting with her and her sister Gayle on the couch to count the snowflakes falling outside, waiting for Santa to come. It’s about the only good memory she has, and MJ wonders if it’s even real.

Before she knows it, she gets up and walks past the bathroom that Peter is getting ready for bed in. She runs down the steps, veers left to the kitchen, and starts putting together a plate of all the leftovers they just ate. She piles the mashed potatoes and turkey high, remembering her dad liked the dark meat, covers it in gravy, then places saran wrap over top of the plate.

She races to the living room to retrieve her coat, almost going hyperspeed so she doesn’t change her mind with what she’s about to do.

MJ’s outside now, making her way to her childhood home, and she feels incredibly nervous. A part of her brain is telling her to just turn around and the other telling her to go through with it.

Standing right in front of the door, all MJ can focus on is her breath, white in the cold air. She breathes heavily, fist hovering inches from the door. Finally, she just knocks.

At first it’s quiet, but after a few seconds she can hear some thumping and groans. It takes a good couple of minutes before the man that has caused her so much pain is right in front of her.

“Whataya want?” He mumbles, not looking at her.

Before saying anything, MJ looks at her father. He hasn’t showered in days, looks as scruffy as ever, and he has a stain from something on the front of his shirt.

“Dad… I--” MJ starts, but doesn’t know what to say.

His eyes focus a little harder on MJ, really looking at her now. Recognition hits him after far too long. His expression barely changes, though. If anything he just looks annoyed that he had to get up from his chair.

“MJ.. Why’re ya here?” His breath reeks of beer.

“I just thought, I was at May’s,” MJ points to the house, “And I thought I’d bring you over a holiday meal.” She extends the plate towards him.

He looks at it while his tongue battles with something in between his teeth. It’s like everything he does is in slow motion, his arms nonchalantly grabbing the plate, hands wobbly.

“ _Anything else_?” He asks, plate in his hand, looking at MJ with no warmth in his eyes.

MJ stands there in bewilderment. The fact that she thought anything else but this would’ve happened makes her feel stupid. This is the exact same man who she was eager to leave earlier this year. Nothing has changed. Why did she even bother coming? Her perplexity soon turns to anger, and she just looks at him with disgust.

“‘Anything else’?” She quotes him with so much venom in her voice.

“...’M not gonna stand here n’ take this bullshit from you... “ He slurs under his breath.

MJ is livid, and she doesn’t want to spend another second here longer than she has to. She has a family in the house right next door. She doesn’t need this man in her life just because he’s blood. Not anymore.

“Merry Christmas, Philip.” MJ spits, not in any way earnestly, and turns on her heel, walking fastly back to May’s.

As she enters the house, she closes the door behind her and leans her back against it, shutting her eyes tightly, letting out irregular breaths. She runs up the stairs, ignoring Peter laying on the couch, and goes into his room. She looks out the window again, and she just wants to feel like she did before this stupid idea.

_The roof._

That roof is what made her the happiest for the longest time. It’s her safe haven. The memories on it... Meeting the one person she knows she truly loves... The next thing she knows, she’s sitting on the shingles, the cold air blowing on her face.

Tears well up in her eyes, falling down her cheeks when they build up, almost immediately freezing from the cold. MJ doesn’t know why she’s letting this get to her; she should be used to this, she had perfected not letting her father in. It’s been so long since she’s seen him, though, she was just hoping things would have been different. Getting mad at herself for letting that man upset her again, she lets out a sigh, trying to will her disappointment away.

“Mind if I join you?” Peter asks, poking his head through the window.

His voice startles MJ. Not so much that he is there, the rooftop being _their_ secret place after all, but she doesn’t want to be caught crying to herself alone up here. She quickly wipes the tears from her face, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Not at all.” MJ answers, her voice betraying her and cracking somewhat while doing so.

Peter’s brow furrows a little, and he gets up on the roof a lot more gracefully than he used to. Moving closer to her, he looks at MJ, searching her face.

“What’s wrong, Mary Jane?” He finally asks when he’s sitting next to her.

“Oh, nothing. It’s nothing, just dumb… Nothing.” She says, shaking her head, pulling her coat over her hands.

He cocks his head slightly to the side, eyes still on her. “You may be good at hiding your feelings, Red, but I am better at reading you.”

She looks at him and focuses on his face. It’s the first time in a long while she really just, _looked_ at him. He still looks exhausted, like he needs a few good sleeps to catch up. His stubble is growing in slightly, despite him shaving earlier on in the day. His face is pretty clear from bruises and cuts, something MJ had gotten used to seeing on him. There’s a type of depth to his eyes that hadn’t been there in a long time though, and MJ focuses on that the longest.

MJ lets out a sigh, knowing there’s no getting out of this, and not really wanting to. An idea forms in her head, and she goes for it before losing the nerve.  

“Tell you what… I’ll tell you what’s wrong, and then you and I have a good talk about Spider-Man. And I don’t mean getting defensive, or this turning into World War III. I just mean a nice, civil talk.” She looks at him with a combination of a smug look, and a little bit of a skeptical one.

He looks at her and glares a little, but they way he perks his lips to the side, she knows he’s either in a better mood than the last time this was brought up, or he doesn’t want to upset her more.

“Fine. Not quite fond of the ultimatum, but yes. You first.” He says, not looking away from her.

Looking forward, MJ doesn’t know if she can talk about this without cracking again, but she tries, reminding herself that her father is not worth her time. She crosses her arms over her chest, partially because of the cold, but mostly because it has always been subconsciously symbolic of not letting anyone in. Yet here she is, telling Peter.

“My dad… I just went over there; something deep inside me thought he changed. That he would’ve been happy to see me, or at least pretend to care about how I’ve been doing for the last six months. But he completely blew me off. Wanted nothing to do with me.” She can feel Peter staring at the side of her face, and she suddenly feels self-conscious. She has never spoken about her dad to anyone before.

She plucks up enough courage to look back at him, and his eyes are still on her, brow slightly furrowed and jaw set, as if he’s angry.

“He’s a fucking idiot, Mary Jane.” Peter says through his teeth.

This catches MJ off guard; she figured Peter would be calm and levelheaded, saying there’s probably a reason for the behaviour, or something. It’s all she’s heard people say in similar situations to hers. The thought that he feels the same way she does, that he feels protective over her lightens her mood a little.

“Seriously, you deserve so much more than that. You just need to surround yourself with the people who truly know how amazing you are. Not lowlifes like him. Don’t let him get to you, okay?” His arms are crossed now too, resting on his knees, and he looks away, looking extremely annoyed.

MJ softens at the sight and can’t help the smile that appears on her lips, and she bumps his shoulder with her own. “Hey, don’t let it get to _you_ , Tiger. He’s a jerk. Plus, we have more important things to discuss.”

He looks back at her and narrows his eyes again. “Mhmm, like what?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what.

“In all honesty, Pete…” She lets in a deep breath. _Here it goes._

“Spider-Man gives people hope. Do you know how much good you--” MJ doesn’t know if they’re at the point where she can directly call _him_ Spider-Man yet, so she corrects herself. “Spider-Man does for people? I know you... I know you blame yourself for everything.”

Peter bites his lip and clenches his jaw, and MJ can _feel_ him hurting. She grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes it tightly.

“It wasn’t Spider-Man’s--” _Screw it._ “It wasn’t _your_ fault, Peter. You did everything you possibly could. More than _anyone_ could. More than... I could…” MJ trails off, the guilt hitting her, not being able to save Gwen in their dorm, either.

“Gwe-- She was just... She was just talking to me about her papers due for ESU. All of her obligations; you know how busy she always was. Then the Goblin just... Took her. Right in front of me. I watched it all happen, and I couldn’t do _anything_ about it. I was nearly knocked out and I just saw him take her. At the end of the day, Peter, you and I _did_ everything we could possibly do. There was no way to predict something like this happening. We did everything, even if it wasn’t enough. But we have to keep doing it, just in case it _is_ enough next time for the next person.” She lets in a deep breath, and she can see that Peter’s eyes are watering now.

“Besides, you know just as well as I do that Gwen wouldn’t want us to blame ourselves, Peter. She’d probably scream at me for missing so many classes, and smack you for not using your gifts to help others. You have a great power and with that comes a great responsibility. We have to keep going. We have to do our best, for her. For Gwen. For the others that could potentially be in Gwen’s position. We have to for them, so we can hopefully change the outcome next time.”

She can tell Peter has been holding his breath, not wanting to let out a sound. She takes her other hand that isn’t holding his, and places it on the side of his face so he’s looking at her now.

“Peter... It isn’t Spider-Man that makes you special. It’s _Peter Parker_ that does. And people need Peter Parker in their lives. I know I do,” MJ’s voice is wavering a little. “And if Spider-Man helps that happen, then you can’t throw that part of you away. You _are_ Spider-Man.”

The silence stretches for long enough that MJ almost starts to regret what she’s said, thinking she has maybe gone too far. However, Peter’s hand grips hers tightly, and he looks deep in her eyes, looking as though he’s just woken up from a nightmare to find himself safe in his bed again. He places his hand behind her head, pulling her forward and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Mary Jane Watson.”  

* * *

6:58 A.M.

MJ anticipatingly waits until the clock reaches 7, as that’s a _somewhat_ acceptable time to wake everybody else up. Ever since she was little she was always the first one awake on Christmas Day back when her mother was alive.

As soon as the alarm clock flashes two minutes later, she bolts up and makes Peter’s bed (not all that well, the excitement getting to her), leaving her pyjamas on and running down the stairs. As she reaches the couch, MJ pauses for a moment, taking a look at Peter’s face as he sleeps; he looks peaceful and young. It’s the first time she has seen him sleep in a long time.

Before waking him, MJ glances over to the Christmas tree and sees another gift under it that she hadn’t seen yesterday. Looking at the presents was one of MJ’s favourite things to do the past few days (she wasn’t used to getting presents, so she often caught herself staring in that direction), and she doesn’t remember seeing that dark, sparkly green bag that sits underneath the tree now.

MJ chalks it up to May putting it there last night, pretending to be Santa, or something. She puts her attention back to Peter, and lets him have one more second of peaceful slumber until she sits right on top of him.

“Wake up! Wake _up_ , sleepy head! Santa came!” MJ says excitedly.

Peter makes a noncommittal sound from under his blanket, trying to pull it further over his head.

“I am _not_ getting up unless Santa turned into a supervillain overnight and destroyed half of Queens,” he mumbles, getting a scoff from MJ.

“If you’re awake enough to make a _joke_ you’re awake enough for presents!” She gets back up and pulls the blanket from him, throwing it on the armchair. Peter whines but MJ knows he let her do it; if he really wanted to fight over it, the blanket would probably be torn in half.

He finally surrenders, sleepily rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the couch. MJ is practically jumping up and down with excitement and the scene in the living room makes them look like kids, which makes them both laugh.

“Should we wake May up?” MJ asks.

“Nah, I think she’ll be okay with waiting a couple more hours for her gifts.” Peter replies, and by the nervousness in his voice, MJ has a feeling he arranged with May so it’d be only the two of them in the morning. She doesn’t mind, though, and she just tells herself that she and May will have time to open each others’ presents later.

MJ nods her head and walks over to the radio. She turns it on and finds a station that’s playing Christmas music, and puts it on quietly. Walking over to the tree, she sits down, the twinkling lights mesmerizing.

“Well? Presents!” MJ says, turning her attention back to Peter and clapping her hands together like an excited child.

Peter gives a smirk and walks his way over to MJ, sitting down right across from her. She is already clutching Peter’s gift in her hands, so he reaches over to the side and picks up the dark green sparky bag that magically appeared there this morning. MJ raises an eyebrow at him, and he just shrugs with mischief in his eyes.

“Okay. You open mine first.” MJ says, extending her arm out towards him so he can grab it.

"Merry Christmas, Mary Jane." Peter says while looking at her.

"Merry Christmas, Peter." MJ smiles.

Peter takes the box, shaking it near his ear to see if it rattles, and when it doesn’t he makes a mock-surprised face.

“What do you mean you didn’t get me the pair of maracas I so desperately wanted?” he jokes, tearing into the wrapping paper.

Before he actually opens the box he takes the card sitting atop it. It’s obviously handmade, with Peter’s name written in pretty handwriting and covered in glitter on the front, and a message inside.

_Peter,_

_Thanks for being my best friend._

_Love, Mary Jane_

Peter gives a slight raise of his eyebrow and opens the box, then stares at it for a minute as though it is the Holy Grail itself. MJ smiles, satisfied that he clearly likes his present since it took her a long time to figure out what to get him.

She can’t even count how many hours she spent in internet forums, researching exactly what she wanted, talking to more knowledgeable people than her at it, trying to make sure she wouldn’t be scammed. But she knows it was worth it from the look on Peter’s face.

“Mary Jane… This camera is exactly like the one my uncle Ben had when I was a kid; He would always let me play with it. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways, Tiger.” She says with a smile and a shrug.

He bites his lip and starts saying something more, but stops midway as though he’s at a loss for words. He shakes his head a little, and emotions MJ can’t quite figure out flash on his face.

“Alright, now it’s your turn, Red.” Peter holds the string handles in his hand and hovers the bag over MJ. She rolls her eyes and reaches up to retrieve it.

She places it in her lap and sucks her lips into her teeth, excitement running through her. She gently pulls out the red tissue paper one by one, until there’s a medium sized clump of red tissue paper wrapped around something. Taking it out, she starts to unravel it.

MJ takes in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to laugh and tear up at the same time. In her hands she holds a soft Spider-Man plush, and on the tag it reads:

_Don’t know what I’d do without you._

_Thanks, Mary Jane._

She looks up at him, surprise all over her face and he just gives her a nod of his head with a sweet smile.

Spider-Man is back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter 13

The sun shines brightly on MJ’s face, and she rolls over in bed in annoyance. As she glances at the clock on her bedside table, her eyes widen and she jumps out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes she sees in front of her. She sprints into the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair to the best of her abilities in the short amount of times she has. She’s _really_ late for work.

It’s been nearly nine months since Christmas, and a lot has happened since then. MJ has started going back to school; she had a lot to catch up on, but Peter was there and helped her with her homework and studying. The two of them have been hanging out a lot lately, with the odd appearance by Harry when he can manage. He’s extremely busy with Oscorp still, especially now that his father is still missing.

Also, it’s not like MJ expected anything else, but she was a little disappointed when her boss from the diner gave her a mouthful when she came in after Christmas break. To say she got fired is quite an understatement. She tried telling herself that it was okay, because waitressing was never meant to be a long-term thing, but she did need the money… So she had to start looking for other things immediately.

Mrs. Stacy had paid Gwen’s portion of the dorm in full for the rest of the school year, so at least MJ didn’t have to worry about that. The emptiness of it was almost too much to deal with as it was. Being a mother, Mrs. Stacy probably knew that MJ wasn’t prepared to have a new roommate any time soon, so it was just MJ in that dorm for the rest of the school year. Peter came over a lot, though. Neither of them can really handle being alone. Most of their movie nights ended up with them passed out on the sofa.

The Bugle welcomed MJ and Peter back with open arms. That’s one of the only good things about being freelance, they still had positions after they were able to get back on their feet. MJ has to work on boring little sections again, no more front page news, but she reasons that she wouldn’t be able to take too much excitement right now, after everything. She’ll get there again, eventually.

MJ got an internship for the summer at the Daily Globe, a smaller newspaper company, and now that it’s ending, she’s trying to make the most out of every second she has left. She’s learned so much about her future profession and has made some very useful contacts, but she doesn’t know where she’ll stand once she finishes school. Journalism is a very competitive field.

Spider-Man is back, too, in full swing. His first appearance after his… _time off_ , was on New Year’s Day when a man who claimed to be The Vulture was terrorizing New York. By the amount of cheering across the streets, you could say that the city was happy to see him, despite the Bugle immediately going back to trying to paint him as a villain.

MJ has been staying at an apartment Harry bought a few months ago. Since school ended in July, she’s been crashing here for the last couple of months until she can figure out where she’s going to stay for the next school year. Normally MJ would decline the generous offer, wanting to get by on her own, but she’s had so many negative home experiences that it’s nice to have this to fall back on. She’s been trying to accept people’s help more lately, too. Not to mention there are two bedrooms, a nice large kitchen, two bathrooms; there is plenty of room around.

Harry himself is rarely here, though, but Peter stays over a lot. They’ve reached this unspoken agreement where, if Peter has a long night patrolling, or is in a fight, he’ll crash with MJ since the apartment is downtown and easier to swing to than May’s. It also helps MJ sleep better at night, not having to worry about him as much. They work fairly well as roommates.

“Late again, Red?” She hears Peter from the kitchen.

“Can’t talk! Late! Have a good day!” She yells while hopping on one foot, trying to put her other shoe on.

Looking over to the side of the front entrance table, MJ sees Peter’s blue backpack with his Spider-Man boot hanging out of it. She pauses and gives the bag an unimpressed look as if it could see her annoyance. Grabbing it, she walks over to Peter in the kitchen and just stares at him with the bag in her hand for a good few seconds.

“You’re kind of crap when it comes to hiding this stuff, you know? What if Harry walked in?” She asks him while stuffing the boot deep into the backpack and zipping it up.

“Well, that’s what you’re here for.” He tells her, giving her the biggest cheshire-grin that is filled with his smart ass attitude and bits of his cereal.

“Mhmmm.” She mumbles, throwing the bag at him, knowing full well that he will catch it effortlessly anyways. “See you tonight.” She waves while walking towards the door.

The office is only a ten-minute walk away from the apartment, so MJ manages to avoid any major embarrassment by coming in about thirty seconds before her boss walks in. Her name is Barbara, and she’s quite young to be in such a high position, but the company is internet-based, and she’s gotten this far thanks to the technology boom of the late 90s, early 2000s.

MJ has her own little desk and spends a lot of time writing on it. The senior editors like to give the interns small tasks to do, like rewrite articles from their website in a different way, or correct grammar mistakes in known publications when the day is slow. When it’s busy, though, MJ follows everyone around, seeing what they do and how, trying to stay out of the way as much as possible while still asking questions; it’s hectic and exciting and she loves it.

After a few hours of mild excitement and a couple of them rushing to meet deadlines, the day starts to slow down, which is usually when most of the staff and the interns go home. She grabs her bag from the back of her chair as she says goodbye to the employees of Daily Globe.

MJ can hear her stomach grumble as she exits the building, and she realizes she didn’t have time to eat anything before she left the house. It rumbles again when she turns the corner, so instead of going straight home, she decides to stop by a coffee shop nearby that she goes to from time to time. It’s new and very trendy, full of important people, but all MJ really cares about are their cinnamon rolls and strong coffee.

She enters the cafe and places her order in to the very friendly barista that works there in the evenings. While waiting for her coffee to be done, MJ notices a man sitting at a table at the back of the room. He has a laptop open in front of him and is wearing expensive designer clothes. He looks very important and young, and MJ thinks he’s pretty good looking, too, in an obvious way.

She looks back to the barista and smiles at him, flustering the boy, which makes him spill coffee all over the front of his apron. MJ laughs a bit loudly at the sight, and when she does, the man’s eyes immediately go from his laptop to her. MJ makes sure the barista is alright, and after an embarrassed nod of the barista’s head, she grabs her food so she can sit down to eat. She feels a little like she’s being watched.

After a few minutes, the man walks over to her table and introduces himself as Adrian from IMG Modeling Agency and asks if he can sit down. He sounds very professional, and MJ agrees, quickly trying to wipe the crumbs off her face. She wonders what he’s doing talking to her, since she didn’t put in any effort with her hair or clothes this morning. She doesn’t even have any makeup on, and wonders if this is some sort of joke.

When he starts talking, though, it’s pretty clear that he isn’t kidding. His phone is sitting between the two of them on the table, and MJ notices that it barely stops buzzing with emails and text messages. When a model MJ recognizes from the magazines she used to read walks into the coffee shop and greets him, she knows that he’s serious.

He tells her she has everything it takes to be the world’s biggest supermodel, and all she needs is the right people representing her. He talks about the models he’s worked with, shows pictures of himself with a dozen important people on his phone and insists that she needs to come into his office for an audition of sorts.

Everything is a little too much for her; MJ has never even _considered_ the thought of being a model. She knew she was tall, but she figured with her fire-hydrant red hair, her face full of freckles, and too-big green eyes, she wasn’t exactly modelesque. She knows stories of that world, and the things that come with the job that terrify her, but she does need the money… So MJ says she’ll think about it, and that seems to satisfy the man for now. He gets up to leave the coffee shop and says he’ll eagerly await her call, handing her his business card.  

MJ decides to leave after that, too.

As she approaches hers, Peter and Harry’s place, which they’ve started calling the “Headquarters”, she fumbles to retrieve her keys from her purse, still distracted from the encounter with the man from IMG. She opens the door and sees Peter’s shoes at the entrance.

“Pete?” She asks, wondering if he’s still here, her voice echoes from the high ceiling.

“In my room!” She can hear him yell out.

Unloading all her bags on the entrance table, she takes off her shoes off and walks down the hallway. Making her way towards Peter’s room, MJ puts her hand in her jeans pocket and runs her finger across the corner of Adrian’s business card. She opens the bedroom door fully, and sees Peter hunched over his desk with ridiculous goggles on, and some trinkets surrounding him.

“What are you...?” MJ asks, raising her eyebrow with a soft smile. _Such a nerd_.

“I made you something!” Peter says as he pushes whatever he’s working on aside. He rummages through a large metal box, finding a slick, silver cylinder object, about 3 inches in length with a lid. Peter hands it to her, and MJ pushes the lid back to see a black button on top.

She looks from the object and back up at Peter, who’s looking excited, and she’s extremely confused. The confusion is clearly portrayed well on MJ’s face, so Peter begins to explain.

“It’s sort of like a panic button. It’s hooked up to my web shooter,” he starts, putting his wrist up, showing her the device. “If you’re in danger, you press that and it’ll alert me. I even made it a keychain so you can put it on your keys.”

MJ looks closely at him now, seeing dark rings around his eyes. He must have been up for ages creating this thing. She looks down at the object again and it breaks her heart. She knows exactly why he created this “panic button.” He doesn’t want another situation like Gwen’s to happen… Maybe if she had one, she would still be…

“Peter…” MJ begins, but Peter cuts her off.

“Just promise me you’ll have it with you at all times, alright?” He starts to look a little distressed, and MJ raises her hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, okay. I will keep it in my bag, always.”

A noise comes from the living room and Peter immediately perks up, eyes fixed on its general direction. MJ’s heart speeds up and she instinctively reaches for the panic button when a familiar voice speaks out.

“Guys? You home?” Harry yells into the empty living room.

Feeling a little silly and very relieved, MJ walks out to meet him, and Peter follows soon after, looking around his room only to make sure nothing... _suspicious_ is out in the open.

MJ greets Harry with a hug, and winces a bit when she feels just how thin he’s gotten lately. Being the head of Oscorp and dealing with a missing parent is taking quite a toll on him, it seems.

“I brought us some dinner,” Harry says, lifting up heavy bags of delicious-smelling food, trying to sound cheerful. “How do you guys feel about Thai?”

They all sit on the big comfy couches and start digging in on the food, Harry turning on the TV just to have some background noise while they eat. They make pleasant conversation about what’s been happening since the last time they all saw each other, work assignments, nice takeouts they had, funny things that happened on the subway.

When the conversation comes to a lull, Peter finally asks what MJ has been too uncomfortable to.

"Any word on your dad?" he says, voice low but soft, and Harry reaches for the remote to turn off the TV.

"Not really," Harry confesses, elbows resting on his knees, face downward. "Everyone's telling me not to give up hope, but..."

Not knowing what to say, MJ settles for getting up from the couch to sit next to Harry, running her hand soothingly across his back. She suspects why Mr. Osborn is missing, and hasn't the faintest idea as to what she should feel about it. On the one hand, this is Harry's father, and even though they've never had a good relationship, a missing family member must be hell to deal with, and Harry's clearly having a hard time. But on the other hand, this man, or whatever it is he turns into, is responsible for Gwen's death, and sometimes MJ thinks she would kill him herself if she had the chance.

Not to mention Peter doesn't know, which makes MJ feel guilty. He's sitting here comforting his friend with sweet and kind words, not knowing his best friend's own father took away his most precious thing. Harry had begged MJ not to tell Peter, and it makes MJ feel sick with confusion, so she decides to get up and start cleaning the mess they made. It helps to keep busy.

Harry stays the night for once, and the three of them end up huddling on one couch together, not really watching whatever's on TV. They fall asleep like that, and when MJ wakes up in the middle of the night, she sees Harry adjusting the blanket that usually says on the sofa to cover all three of them, and she wonders how much longer she'll be able to have the two of them so close with her like this.

 

* * *

The next morning, MJ is choosing what she's going to wear for work and grabs the jeans she had on yesterday, causing the modeling agency card to fall out of its pocket.

She stares at it for a long moment before grabbing it. Still looking at it, she mulls over everything in her head. It could be a good career move, getting herself out there. Not to mention it’d be good in the money department. But there isn't exactly a lot of prestige for a journalist playing model on the side.

Before talking herself out of it, she decides to just go for it and call Barbara. She most likely won't even get the job at IMG anyway, and the man, Adrian, was probably just being nice back at the coffee shop.

She punches in the Daily Globe number in her cellphone and hears a couple rings before her boss picks up.

“Hey, Barbara, it’s MJ."

"MJ, I'm so glad you called. I thought you were going to just leave me stranded here."

MJ feels a pang of guilt at blowing off work like this, but she's been nothing but a model employee the whole time she's been there, and figures one day out won't kill them. Besides, she's only an intern.

"Actually, something came up today and I won’t be able to make it in. But I’ll see you tomorrow?" she says, trying to sound casual. "Great. Yeah. Perfect. See you later.”

After the call ends, MJ squints at the card and starts to dial the number displayed on it.

She gets Adrian's assistant, and feels too unimportant to just introduce herself by name, so she rambles on about how they met and that he wanted her to call, and that she's not desperate or anything, but the woman on the other line interrupts her saying she knows who MJ is and transfers the call immediately.

“Oh. Hey, Adrian. I was just thinking about what you said at the cafe yesterday? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try out, right?” She smacks herself on her forehead for sounding so juvenile.

“Definitely, MJ. Glad you came around. Did you have time today to drop by? I’ll be available for the test shoot around 2 P.M. if that works for you.” His voice sounds deep and professional, making MJ pause for a moment.

“Yes! Er-- 2 is great. I’ll see you then.”

MJ hangs up the phone, and looks down at the jeans that are still in her hands, feeling extraordinarily ordinary. Maybe she should try a little harder with her wardrobe… This is an audition after all. She glances at her watch and sees that it’s just past ten, so she has a lot of time to get ready. She starts to go through her whole closet, but nothing seems adequate enough.

MJ glances towards her bedroom window and nearly has a heart attack when she sees Peter-- Spider-Man on the other side of it waving at her. She stares at him with her arms crossed over her chest for a moment before walking over and opening the window.

“Just did some patrolling. Need a snack, though. Thanks for opening up.” He says as he enters through the window, raising his mask over his face so it sits on the back of his head like a cap.

MJ flops down on her bed with a disgruntled moan, and Peter looks at her with a raised eyebrow, noticing the clothes flinged all over the place.

“So… What happened in here? The Rhino get loose?” He asks with an amused voice.

“I don’t want to tell you... It’s embarrassing.” She sits upright, annoyed that this is getting to her in the first place.

“You better tell me, Mary Jane Watson. I have a right to know if I’m living with a secret super villain.” He stands in front of MJ with a hand on his hip, and the sight is quite ridiculous with him in his skintight, colourful spandex.

MJ lets out a sigh and sheepishly hands Peter over the card that Adrian gave her. Peter takes it in his hand and reads it over. He narrows his eyes onto it, then looks up at MJ quizzically.

“You? A _model_?” There’s a humour to his voice, like he’s about to laugh.

MJ knows that it’s Peter just being Peter, but it kind of strings a little.

“Yes, Peter. Some guy approached _me_ and told me _I_ would be a great model.” She snatches the card from his hand, putting it back in the jeans pocket. “Despite what _you_ think.”

MJ storms out of her bedroom, not entirely sure where she’s going, but needing to get out of the room.

“Oh, come on, Mary Jane, I didn’t mean it like that…” He says while following her like a puppy.

MJ pretends to ignore him and decides to head for the kitchen to get a glass of water. It's one thing for her to doubt herself, but when Peter does it? Well, that hurts more than she'd care to admit. And what does he care what she does, anyway?

"Hey, Red, I'm sorry," Peter starts, walking into the kitchen behind MJ. "I was just surprised, that's all."

MJ sips the water so she won’t have to reply to him, but when he calls her name again, she finally looks at him, brow still furrowed in annoyance but softening a little when she sees how sincere he looks.

"You just don't seem like that type of girl, that's all." He says with a shrug.

That makes MJ's eyebrows shoot right up. She was almost ready to accept his apology until he said _that_.

"' _That type of girl_ '?" she repeats, incredulous, her hand on her hip. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Peter gets a little flustered, as he sees her attitude changing, and he stammers trying to get his reply out.

"You know, like— I mean, they— You're a journalism major! You're smart and, well, models... aren't. Generally."

MJ gets really angry at that, setting the glass she was holding down so hard on the marble counter that it nearly breaks.

So he thinks all models are airheads? She is just going to have to prove him wrong.

* * *

Arriving at the modeling agency, MJ feels some of the anger from before dissipate a little, feeling a little bad for basically leaving Peter talking to himself.

Standing amidst all of the gorgeous, super tall models, she feels awkward and like she doesn't belong, regretting her decision on the summery dress and plain flats. The looks the other models give her don't exactly help, either; she feels like fresh meat in a shark tank.

Walking up to the secretary's desk, MJ introduces herself, standing around uncomfortably when she's asked to wait a moment and to have her head shots ready. MJ doesn’t have any of those, and she wonders if that’ll work against her.

She only needs to wait a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity, and MJ tries to busy herself by typing fake text messages on her phone, taking peeks at all the pretty girls talking amongst themselves.

Luckily, Adrian doesn't take too long to come out despite MJ feeling like time stood still, and greets her with a hug she really wasn't expecting. She can almost _feel_ the other girls' eyes burning into her. MJ assumes he doesn’t normally do that with his clients.

“Right this way, MJ.” He tells her, hand on her lower back, guiding her through the reception. They enter a large, very white room with mountains of clothing on multiple hangers. There’s a vanity-type desk with more makeup than she’s ever seen with a huge mirror at the back of it.

“I don’t have... Head photos.” MJ says as she looks around the room in amazement, with all the camera equipment, backdrops, and hot, bright studio lights.

He gives a low, throaty laugh. “We will give you some _head shots_ today, that’s what this appointment is for. To see how you get along with the camera. Though I don’t expect you to have any problems in that department.”

Adrian runs his fingers through his long dark brown hair and smiles at MJ. “Come this way, we will get you changed into some Chanel.” He starts to rummage through all the hangers, grabbing the clothes and holding them up against her body, searching for what he wants.

After a lot of “Hmms” and “Nos,” he finally seems happy with his choice. MJ has lost count of how many outfits he put in front of her, one seeming more outrageous than the other, so when Adrian hands her a black bandeau and some black tights, MJ feels a little relieved.

“I will be photographing you as well.” Adrian says as MJ holds the clothes awkwardly in her hands, still not knowing what she’s supposed to do in here.

“You’re a photographer, too?” MJ asks him, suddenly nervous to know he will be the one taking her picture, though she can’t figure out why.

“You’ll be surprised to know all that I’m able to do.” There’s a small pause as he looks at her, and MJ starts to feel something very similar to butterflies in her stomach. She wonders if the statement had more depth to it intended for her. “Now change, we’ll get started.”

He spins around and walks towards all the scary-looking equipment. MJ tries to remember what she’s learned in Photography class about different lenses and light boxes, but can’t think of much.

There doesn’t seem to be a change room, or any other room at all connected to the one they’re in, so she discretely hides behind a rack of clothes to change into the Chanel pieces Adrian wants her in. She places her summer dress, shoes, and bag down on the ledge of a very large window, and walks out from behind the plethora of clothes. She feels a little odd with her tummy exposed. The tights are high waisted, though, so she just crosses her arms over the bare part of her skin.

Adrian is adjusting some things in his camera and doesn’t look up for a while, so MJ clears her throat to indicate she’s ready. The smile that comes up on his face is almost enough for MJ to feel completely unabashed.

“You look _amazing_ ,” he says while walking towards her. “Just like a supermodel.”

MJ has been out with enough guys to know when she’s getting hit on with an old line, but she still can’t help the flush rising to her cheeks at Adrian’s comment. He definitely has a way of making people feel special, and it’s no wonder his agency is so full of high-profile models.

“I don’t want an ounce of makeup on you for the first few shots, you look terrific like that.” Adrian states as he runs his fingers through her hair, fluffing it up a little to give it more volume. “Now, stand in the center, there, right where I put that tape on the ground.” He points to the white backdrop that extends all the way down the floor.

“Let’s try some natural shots, I really hate forced poses. Tell me about your day.”

MJ doesn’t reply or do anything for a moment, not quite understanding what Adrian’s said. She stands in the center, her hand holding onto her elbow.

“I know it sounds weird, but just trust me. Tell me about what you saw on your way here.” He instructs her. “That way you’ll be focused on something other than the camera.”

Still feeling a little confused, MJ starts talking about the most mundane things-- a cute dog that was on a leash outside a bakery, a woman’s crazy green hair on the subway. Adrian seems to like it, asking questions and giving encouragement, and before she knows it, she’s laughing and it doesn’t feel like she’s in a photoshoot at all.

He continues to snap the photos, and MJ starts to like the way this feels. She feels almost… Empowered.

About a half an hour passes, and just as she’s getting really into it, feeling like she isn’t failing _entirely_ , her phone starts to go off. Adrian looks up from his camera and towards the noise, then back at MJ. She starts to feel embarrassed.

“Feel free to take it, we should probably have a quick break, anyway.” He says to her.

MJ gives a quick smile and nod of her head and rushes towards the phone, as the Spider-Man theme song is making her look pretty unprofessional. She looks down at the caller ID to see that it’s Peter, and she rolls her eyes.

She presses the answer button and places it to her ear, turning her back to Adrian so he won’t hear the conversation.

“What do you want, Pete? Kind of in the middle of something.” MJ doesn’t even try to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“Hey, sorry, hi, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner? I am really sorry for earlier. It’s on me.” He sounds really apologetic and rushes through his question so he doesn’t keep her.

MJ waits a few moments, a smile on her lips, but still wanting him to make him suffer a little. “Well, I suppose, if you’re gonna pay... Meet me at IMG Modeling Agency at 5.”

“You’re _there_?!” He asks, a little too cynically for MJ’s taste.

“Yes, Peter. See you at 5.” She hangs up the phone and stuffs it in her bag. She looks back towards Adrian to see him staring at her.

“Boyfriend?” He asks as natural as someone could be.

“Err-- Well. No. Just a friend.”

“Great. Well, shall we continue?”

* * *

Another hour passes and Adrian has MJ change into a more colorful outfit, some oranges and reds which she was always told to stay away from because of her hair. This time, Adrian wants some makeup on her, which he applies himself. MJ is sure he has people who could be doing this for him, yet it’s just him and her...

He put on some music, the old 30s classic type, and this time he directs MJ into some poses, but mostly just telling her to do what feels natural to her.

After he decides he has enough shots, he waves MJ over to a big computer so he can transfer the photos to it and show her what they’ve done. She’s extremely impressed at how great the pictures look, and at how she looks in them. It’s hard to like how you look when it’s someone else taking the photos, but this time MJ can’t find anything to criticize herself over.

It has been a few hours now, and Adrian has called it a day. He looks throughout the photos some more as MJ gets changed into her own clothes, feeling a lot better about modeling than she was earlier today.

They both round the corner to get back to the lobby, and MJ sees Peter waiting there for her. He looks extremely uncomfortable and out of place in the midst of all the models he had just made fun of earlier. It’s quite a funny visual, to be honest.

“Thank you for lending me that beautiful face of yours, MJ. I will give you a call tomorrow and tell you how your shots were received, though, I already know how they will be.” He bends forward and gives her a kiss on the cheek, lingering there for a little longer than one normally would.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks for everything, Adrian.” MJ says as she fidgets with her fingers, seeing Peter’s eyes on them.

Before she knows it, Adrian is gone, obviously very important and needing to be places. MJ approaches Peter who is still staring at her, flabbergasted.

“Who the heck was that?” Is the first thing he says as MJ gets to him.

“His name is Adrian. He’s kind of, like, my boss? I don’t know, really.” She answers, a little skeptical about his tone.

“Well, he looks… Unprofessional… Kissing you like… _That_.” Peter says, petulantly.

MJ is about to start an argument with him over how he’s acting, but decides against it, too exhausted from all she did today. Despite what people think, modelling does take work.

“Yeah, well, since you were such a butt this morning, I get to pick where we’re gonna eat tonight.” She says as she walks towards the door, Peter following behind her trying to catch up.

“Whatever her majesty wants, she shall get.” He says while bowing as he opens the door for her, and she punches him in the shoulder as she exits.

MJ decides she’s feeling like ribs, so they both head to a cheap restaurant nearby. MJ wants Peter to suffer a little bit, but she also knows his paycheck isn’t exactly affording him fancy meals, and she doesn’t want to make him eat instant noodles for a month.

They  sit down across from each other at a table with a red and white checkered tablecloth over it, the cutlery placed on top of paper napkins. It’s still early, and there only seems to be one waitress working, and she’s waiting to be waved over to take their order. It’s a _really_ classy place.

“Are you ready to get absolutely _covered_ in barbecue sauce?” MJ says excitedly while licking her lips and glimpsing at the menu.

“I was born ready, Mary Jane. This is what I do best.” Peter states matter-of-factly.

“Really? _Eating_? So that whole great power and responsibility thing was about what?” She begins and he just rolls his eyes at her.

They finally flag the waitress over to their table so they can order. MJ decides on the honey barbecue ribs and Peter asks for the Jack Daniels ones. The waitress looks bored, chewing on her bubble gum while she writes the order down, leaving when she’s done.

“So, anything interesting happen today?” MJ asks Peter, knowing that he was just patrolling all day.

“Helped a kitten get down a tree. An old lady cross a street.” He says looking bored, pausing a little afterwards. “I’m not sure whether to be happy or terrified that it’s been pretty quiet lately.” He adds.

“I think you’re just doing your job. People don’t want to mess with scrawny ol’ Pete.” MJ jokes.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I’ve been working out.” He retorts.

MJ’s phone starts ringing and interrupts them, and Peter’s face isn’t exactlyfriendly when he notices who it is on the caller ID. The smile he had on his face earlier falters a little, and he looks at MJ to see if she’ll pick it up.

Giving him an apologetic look, MJ answers the phone, figuring it’s not really rude since this is just the two of them and it’s for work. She gets up from the table and heads for the door just in case, and Peter’s smile falls completely.

“Adrian, hi! What’s up?”

“I hope this isn’t a bad time. I’m just leaving the studio and I can’t stop thinking about you.” There’s something about the way he talks to MJ that makes her extremely nervous.

“Me?” She asks, a little confused.

“Yes, you. You’re unlike anybody I’ve ever met. I want to see you again. And this time not because of work.”

MJ’s brain is having trouble catching up to Adrian’s implications, and can’t think of anything to reply with.

“I have front row tickets to Wicked this weekend, and I want you to come with me,” he says, and there’s confidence dripping from every word as if he knows she’ll say yes.

She takes a moment again, this time knowing full well he is asking her out. Glancing over to Peter, she sees he’s clearly annoyed, so she makes a snap decision to get back to her table quickly.

“Yeah, that would be really lovely, Adrian. Text me the details.” She replies.

“Will do, gorgeous. Goodnight.”

The line is disconnected and she looks down at her phone, not entirely sure how she feels about what just happened, yet. MJ approaches the table and slides back into the booth, avoiding Peter’s eyes.

“Model-y stuff?” he asks, trying to be interested but mostly just pressing for information.

“Mmm... Not really.” MJ replies, and her brain debates whether she should tell him what happened or not. When Peter keeps looking at her expecting an answer, she relents.

“He asked me out. This weekend.”

She traces one of the red squares on the tablecloth with her finger, still not looking up at Peter. But when he doesn’t say anything after that, she looks up to see why.

His face is neutral and MJ can’t tell what his expression means. She’s just about to ask, when suddenly he goes rigid, and MJ knows the reaction all too well, and she deflates a little knowing she won’t get an answer from him anytime soon, if at all.

“Mary Jane, I gotta…” He starts to say as he stands up.

“I know. Go get ‘em, Tiger.” She looks up at him with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

He places enough money on the table to pay for them both and is gone a second later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope that you're enjoying the story so far! We are going to be going on a semi-hiatus until the end of January. We will be back soon! Hope you had the best New Years ever. :)
> 
> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

It’s Saturday afternoon and MJ is feeling a little apprehensive about her date with Adrian tonight. She had enough trouble figuring out what to wear or what to say to impress him when she went to have her photos taken in a professional setting, but now that they’re going out on a date, she feels like she knows less than before.

The truth is, she doesn’t know what to make of this. Adrian is certainly attractive and charming, but he isn’t the type of guy MJ would normally go out with. She isn’t even looking for any sort of relationship right now, no matter how casual. She doesn’t have the time or headspace for it between school starting back up again this fall, the Bugle, and her internship. But she also doesn’t want to be rude to him, especially since he’s helping her out with her newfound love of modeling.

As she struggles-- again-- with her clothes spread on her bedroom floor, trying to decide what to wear, MJ just tells herself this is a friendly thing, and that she’s reading too much into it. He probably just wants to have a platonic relationship outside of work to make things easier, that’s all.

Adrian wanted to pick her up at the apartment, but from the look Peter gave her at the restaurant when he called, and the way he’s been acting in general regarding Adrian, MJ decides it’s best if they meet outside the theater.

MJ takes one last look at the pile of clothes in front of her and decides on a simple black dress, and since she’ll be walking to the theater, she reaches for her favorite pair of comfortable flats. She doesn’t want to look like she’s tried too hard when she isn’t even sure what this thing is.

Walking out into the kitchen, she hopes that Peter is out patrolling so she doesn’t have to deal with his judgmental looks. Unfortunately for her, but fortunately for the masses of New York, there isn’t much crime on the streets as of late; Peter is rummaging through the fridge for something to eat.

“No kittens to save tonight?” MJ asks, looking through her purse on the kitchen counter for her lipstick.

Peter spins around with a carrot stick hanging from his mouth and looks at MJ. He stares at her up and down, and MJ’s eyes move around, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Uh. Did some patrolling. Gonna do some more in a bit.” He finally answers after he realizes he had been staring.

“Right. Well, I’m off. So… Talk to you later, Pete.” MJ says as she starts to walk towards the door.

“Wait, you’re walking there by yourself?” He asks a little loudly, walking after her.

MJ turns around to face him. “Yeah, it’s not too far away,” She reasons.

“Hold up, let me get changed so I can make sure you get there all right.” Peter runs to his room.

MJ rolls her eyes, but deep inside she actually appreciates it. After a few moments, she can hear Peter yell that she can leave now, so she does, locking the door behind her. She exits the apartment and walks down the stairs and onto the street that’s starting to get dark. As if on cue, she looks up to the sky and sees Spider-Man slinging across it. He perches on a nearby building and MJ walks to the theater feeling safer than usual.

Every now and then when she’s waiting for the light to turn green for pedestrians to walk, MJ will look up to try and find Peter. Every time she does, she catches him doing something funny, like pretending to lose his grip on a building wall, or walking on window ledges like Charlie Chaplin, and she knows he’s doing it just because she’s watching.

She’s been friends with Peter long enough now that she’s pretty sure she knows him inside out, and she’s always baffled by how much more confident he is whilst in the suit. He’s always been a funny and witty guy, but as Spider-Man, it’s as though that’s taken to a higher level. MJ is reminded of the other day when she was having her photos taken, and how assured she felt in herself while in front of the camera, like she was a heightened version of herself. She wonders if it’s how Peter feels.

About a block away from the theater, MJ looks back and sees that Peter has stopped swinging around and is now crouched atop a several-story building, just watching. He isn’t doing his funny bits anymore and when MJ turns her eyes back to the streets she thinks she knows why.

Adrian is standing at the theater entrance, right in front of a big illuminated poster and he has a large bouquet of flowers in one hand. He’s dressed in the nicest clothes MJ has ever seen, even nicer than Harry’s, and he smiles when his eyes catch hers.

MJ smiles back at him and looks over her shoulder one more time, and Spider-Man is still watching her, head slightly tilting to the side as though inspecting Adrian, who doesn’t notice a thing. She greets him with a kiss on the cheek and thanks him for the flowers, and they both enter the building. A part of MJ wonders if Peter will stay out there all night waiting for them to come out.

The theater is amazing; antique chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings with grace, incredible handcrafted details up the length of the wooden banisters, stunning rugs that make you feel like you’re committing a crime by stepping on them. Equally as impressive are the seats Adrian got. Had they been any closer, they’d be sitting on the actual stage.

As they sit to wait for the show to start, Adrian turns to MJ and tells her how stunning she looks. He’s so close that she can feel his breath tickling the side of her neck, and her cheeks start to warm up. She thanks him with a smile, but is reluctant to flirt back, still unsure of the nature of this date.

The last of the people around them take their seats and the lights go down, and MJ feels excited in a way she hasn’t in a long time. She’s always loved musicals ever since she was a child, and _The Wizard of Oz_ has been one of her favorite movies ever since she’s first watched it with her mother and sister. The mixture of those two things makes her skin tingle in anticipation.

The show starts with a bang, the music loud and epic, and MJ allows herself to be engulfed in the story and the songs. She smiles like a little girl when she sees The Good Witch with her blond hair and pretty white dress up on stage inside her bubble.

As the story progresses, MJ starts to get more and more emotional. The story of _Wicked_ takes some well known aspects of _The Wizard of Oz_ and tells a parallel story about the witches who would come to be known as The Wicked Witch of The West, The Wicked Witch of The East and The Good Witch.

In the story, The Wicked Witch of The West is but a misunderstood girl who gets that title simply because the people around her are prejudiced against her for her unusual green skin, and not for any evil she has done. Elphaba, her real name, is a sweet girl who only wants to be accepted and loved, but is shunned out of every good opportunity for something beyond her control. The Good Witch, named Glinda, is a popular girl who is wary of her at first, being assigned Elphaba as a roommate at school, but both eventually become the best of friends despite their differences. It reminds MJ a lot of her and Gwen, and she finds herself crying a little at certain moments in the story.

During one of the most emotional songs, MJ lifts her hand to wipe away a tear and when she lowers it back onto the armrest, she feels Adrian’s hand wrapping around hers in a comforting manner.  MJ doesn’t move her hand away.

When the show ends, the entire audience stands up in ovation, and so do Adrian and MJ. As the actors are taking their bows, MJ can feel Adrian’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t want to look back at him, afraid her makeup looks absolutely awful after all of the weeping she’s done during the show. As the lights come back on fully and people start making their way out, MJ quickly tells Adrian she’ll find a restroom to freshen up and that she’ll meet him at the entrance.

In the restroom, MJ quickly fixes the mascara that was running down her cheeks and puts on another layer over the faded color of her lipstick, adjusting her hair and her dress in the big mirror in front of her. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the room, and wonders what Adrian will want them to do now.

Walking out of the theater, MJ finds Adrian at the same spot he was waiting for her earlier that evening, holding the same flowers and looking just as charming.

“Did you have a good time?” He asks her, always confident.

“Adrian, that was amazing,” MJ responds truthfully. “I think this might be my new favorite musical of all time.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Adrian smiles. “Now I know where to take you for our next dates.”

MJ freezes a bit at that. She’s had a lovely time, but they haven’t actually talked much at all, and she doesn’t know if she wants any more dates with him. She doesn’t want anything to be complicated between them, and he _is_ technically her boss of some sort.

Not picking up at her uneasiness at all, Adrian flags a taxi and holds the door open for MJ to enter when it parks in front of them.

“Oh, thanks, but I don’t need a cab,” MJ clarifies, thinking he means to end the night here.

“Are you really saying you want to walk for 12 blocks over to my place?” Adrian asks with a laugh.

Ah. So _that’s_ what he wants.

MJ has no intention of sleeping with him, at least not today, so she tries her best to express that in a… _Nicer_ way.

“Adrian, I had so much fun tonight,” she starts, searching her brain for the right words. “But my roommate is expecting me, and I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna go home.”

Adrian narrows his eyes and turns his head to the side in confusion, MJ wonders if he’s ever been rejected at all, but his brow softens when he speaks again.

“I have been coming on too strong, haven’t I?” He asks. “I’ll tell you what, you agree to go out with me again and I promise we’ll go somewhere where we can talk and really get to know each other. With no orchestra getting in the way.”

He reaches out to touch MJ’s arm as he says this, stroking it lightly with his fingers, and MJ can’t help but look up at his face. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and her arm is prickling with goosebumps.

Adrian moves closer to her, and his head slowly tilts to his right once he’s close enough, and MJ follows his movements instinctively. His lips are soft and feel nice against hers, and she braces herself with her hands on his chest.

“I’ll call you, MJ.” Adrian says as he steps back, entering the taxi cab and driving away.

When MJ looks up, she sees a familiar silhouette perched up on the roof of the building across the street from her. Suddenly it feels like her heart is in her throat, and she wonders if he was watching them.

MJ crosses her arms over her chest, getting a little self-conscious, and speed walks back to the Headquarters. She glances up to see him swinging, keeping up the same pace at her, and just as she reaches their front door, he swings into his bedroom window.

Getting the keys out of her purse, MJ unlocks the front door and closes it quietly behind her. She puts her purse down on the entrance table and takes off her shoes, heading to her bedroom, eager to get into her pajamas. Before she gets to her room, however, Peter steps out of his, already in his civilian jeans and T-shirt.

“Hey, Pete, get up to much tonight?” MJ jokes, knowing full well what he was up to, and walks past him to her room.

He gives a snort, but doesn’t say anything. MJ finds the silence odd, so she stops and turns around to look at him. Peter looks like he’s dwelling on something, debating it back in forth in his head as he looks down at his sock rubbing against the hardwood floor.

“What’s wrong?” MJ asks, feeling guilty somehow, like she has something to explain.

Peter looks up at her and shakes his head, giving a half-assed smile.

“Nothin’. ‘Bout to make something to eat. Want anything?” He asks as he walks to the kitchen.

MJ can feel her stomach practically answering for her as it noisily rumbles, and she follows Peter.

“I don’t want anything that _you’re_ gonna make, though,” MJ jokes when she gets to the kitchen. “Getting food poisoning is not on my list of things to do today.”

“Oh my God,” Peter exclaims dramatically, “You are so funny! No, seriously, stop, my stomach hurts from laughing so much,” he says, clutching onto his belly for effect, not laughing one bit. MJ throws a dish towel at him, and Peter smiles crookedly when it lands on his head.

“Jerk.” MJ grins.

Peter starts looking through the cupboards and the fridge, “hmmm-ing” as he opens and closes the doors as though he’s making a very important decision.

“Right, so we only have two choices here, because neither of us has been grocery shopping in weeks,” he states, and MJ mentally smacks herself on the forehead. How did she forget to buy _food_?

“We can have a PB&J, with this very old, probably moldy bread,” he lifts up a bag of the suspicious-looking item, making a disgusted face at it, “Or we can share a bowl of instant ramen noodles.”

Neither option is particularly appealing to MJ right now, being hungry enough to eat a horse, but that bread actually looks dangerous, so she votes for the noodles, and Peter mutters a “Thank God” at her decision.

He grabs a pot and fills it with water, and MJ sits at the counter and just watches him. For someone so deft, able to fly through the skies with the greatest of ease, he’s remarkably unskilled in the kitchen.

It doesn’t take long for the water to boil and the ramen to cook, and Peter has a cereal bowl ready, pouring the noodles into it once it’s done. He then grabs two forks from the silverware drawer and walks over to MJ.

He sits across from her, and they eat their dinner in comfortable silence, laughing a little every time their forks tangle with each other as they’re picking up more noodles with them.

Just before they’re finished with their meal, MJ’s phone buzzes with a text message on the counter in front of her, and Peter reads the name lit up on the screen, lips pursing like he’s taken a bite of a sour fruit.

“ _I had a great time 2nite. Sleep tight xx_ ”

Adrian.

* * *

Today is the last day of MJ’s summer internship with the Daily Globe, and MJ is feeling a little sad. She’s learned a lot coming to work and actually being in contact with her profession on a more practical way, and she’s going to miss the commotion of a room full of journalists trying to make their deadlines.

She doesn’t want to look too emotional or make a big deal out of it, though, so she goes about her day as normally as she can, following people around and doing her tasks, but secretly thinking things like “This is the last time I’ll ever change the toner cartridge of this printer,” and it’s almost enough to make her on the verge of tear.

Once the office has calmed down and deadlines met, everyone starts getting ready to go home, but MJ keeps finding things to do just so she won’t have to. At one point, she’s cooped up in storage because, according to her, it’s paramount that she should get the _white_ printing paper and not the eggshell-coloured one, and Barbara has to come in and bring her back out.

Pouting a little, MJ follows her back to her desk, and when she sits back on her chair, she notices there’s a cake in front of her, and now everyone in the office is staring at her. Feeling very confused, she looks towards Barbara who just points at a spot above her head, and when MJ looks up she sees a sign hanging there that says “We’ll Miss You” in bright coloured paper.

The whole office had planned a surprise going away party for MJ. Looking around the room, she sees red plastic cups, drinks and food on top of desks normally covered in newspapers, music playing from computers from which only typing sounds would come out on a normal day. Her own desk holds not only a cake, but dozens of cards signed by all of her coworkers.

Struggling against the urge to cry, since she never even considered that anyone at the Globe would think highly enough of her to miss her, MJ gives Barbara a meaningful look and, trying to deflect the attention from herself, she jokes.

“Well, are we gonna eat or what?”

The party doesn’t last for very long, only about an hour, but it’s enough to make MJ feel appreciated and like she’s finally doing something right in her life. Her coworkers tell her their favourite articles she’s written, she gets most people’s numbers and a promise that they’ll help her out at the job once she graduates, though they assure her she’ll have no problems getting work if she keeps writing the way she does.

As things start to die down and people are ready to go home, MJ goes around making sure to give everyone a hug, thanking them for the party and for everything. She leaves Barbara for last, and when they hug each other, she holds on for a second longer, tears springing to her eyes.

When she lets go, she walks up to her desk to grab her bag, and heads for the elevator. She presses the button and it’s only a few seconds for it to get to her floor and she steps in. Just before the door closes, Barbara’s voice comes from the office.

“Knock ‘em dead, kid.”

MJ doesn’t feel like going home just yet, so she decides to stop by the same coffee shop she met Adrian the other day for a drink and some time for herself. As much as she loves having the boys around at the Headquarters, she really misses being alone with her thoughts sometimes.

Ordering a plain black coffee instead of the sweet, impossibly-named drinks she usually does, MJ picks an empty booth at the back of the establishment to sit down. The place is surprisingly empty tonight, for which she’s glad.

After about forty minutes of just drinking her coffee and staring out the window, not really thinking of anything or anyone for a change, not checking her phone and not worrying about anything happening outside, MJ feels like she can finally go home with a bit of a clearer head. Before she gets up, a shorter, brunette girl with glasses approaches her.

“Excuse me?” The girl asks politely. “You’re MJ, right?”

MJ doesn’t recognize the girl at all, and when she answers ‘yes,’ the girl gives her a big smile.

“I love your articles at the Bugle. The latest one you wrote about the mayor’s cat turning 22 was extremely amusing.”

MJ can’t exactly tell if the girl is joking or not, but by her sweet gaze, she assumes it’s genuine.

“I’m Carlie, by the way. Carlie Cooper.” the girl states, interrupting MJ’s thoughts. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I liked your articles.”

MJ smiles and they exchange a few other pleasantries before they say their goodbyes, and MJ is left with a huge grin on her face.

MJ hasn’t had a girl friend since Gwen, and the thought of somebody else replacing her had made MJ retreat back into her shell many times since the incident. But now she’s starting to think that maybe it’s okay to let somebody else in. That’s what Gwen would’ve wanted, anyway. And though she doubts she’ll ever be able to find a connection with another girl like she had with Gwen, she doesn’t have to give up trying altogether.

Shaking her head from her thoughts, MJ feels silly for already planning to be best friends with Carlie from just one meeting when, for all she knows, she was just being nice to an acquaintance. She rolls her eyes to herself and gets up from the table to head back home.

It’s starting to get darker, which subconsciously makes MJ walk a little faster. Kicking herself for spending so much time at the coffee shop and waiting till it was this dark to get home, MJ quickens her pace even more.

It’s a quiet evening around this part of town, and MJ rounds the corner to a secluded road, a shortcut to make the walk home quicker, because there’s no way she wants to stay out here longer than she should. She’s halfway down the lane already when she sees three men exit out of a black vehicle.

Crossing her arms around her chest, MJ deliberately walks to the other side of the road away from the group, avoiding eye contact at all costs. MJ clenches her jaw when one of them start to say something.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here fer a second?” One of the men barks, and the others snicker in unison.

“You’re lookin’ good tonigh’. How ‘bout we have a little fun?” Another says. They’re clearly wasted by their slurs.

Knowing that answering or declining in any way will just agitate them more, MJ remains silent and basically starts speed walking.

“Hey, come back here!” One yells, and she can hear their footsteps getting louder and quicker.

“Stupid bitch!” Another cries, and MJ gives up trying to look like she isn’t reacting to them and starts running as fast as she can.

She’s a few meters ahead of the men when she looks back, but when she does, she trips on a crack in the sidewalk, causing her to fall over, her bare knees skidding across the concrete.

“Aghh!” She grunts, but gets up quickly and keeps on running, adrenaline moving her forward and numbing the pain enough to keep her going.

But the men are fast and start gaining on her, one of them lunging and grabbing her by her arms, knocking them both over. He’s pinning her down on the cold, wet ground and smiling at her now, like a lion who’s just captured its prey.

“This coulda been so much easier, girly.” He spits at her, the other two hovering around excitedly.

He grabs her wrists and lifts her up from the floor, slamming her against an abandoned car. Two of the men automatically grab MJ’s arms in perfect sync as if they’ve all done this before, and the man who grabbed MJ seconds ago starts to undo his belt buckle.

“No!” MJ screams at the sight. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” She yells until her throat feels raw and her voice is nearly lost as she thrashes against the men’s grip on her, making them hold on to her harder, causing bruises to form on her arms.

“Quiet, you stupid bitch!” One of them covers her mouth with his hand, and she bites it hard enough to taste blood.

“ _FUCK_!” He yells, pulling his hand away immediately and shaking it, then looking at the bite marks. He winds his arm back and punches MJ’s face, _hard_ , and she can feel her bottom lip bust open. The other man punches her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

The man in front of her has his pants down to his knees now, and is smirking at her as if he’s enjoying her struggle, and it enrages MJ to no end. But she’s trapped between strong men and she doesn’t know how to get out of it... If she _can_ get out of it.

With his body pinning her to the car, the man puts his leg between hers to spread them apart. This mortifies MJ, and she tells herself this _can’t_ happen to her. She won’t let it. Thinking fast, she kicks one of her legs up, her knee connecting to the man’s groin with so much force, he stumbles back and doubles over while moaning.

This takes the other men off guard, making them release their grip on her slightly, giving her the opportunity to elbow the one on her right directly to his stomach, and bending down immediately after to grab a rock on the ground to knock it on the other man’s head on her left. As soon as they let go entirely of their grip on her to tend to their injuries, MJ begins to run as fast as she can. The first man still manages to stand up and grab MJ’s arm to try and hold her down, but she yanks it out of his hands, and his nails leave a bloody trace where it scratched her skin.

She sprints until she thinks her legs might give up to the busiest place she can find, tears running down her cheeks. As soon as she gets to a street packed with people, she slows down a bit to try and find her surroundings, and when she does, she continues to run towards her apartment, bumping into pedestrians and not even apologizing as she does so.

Running up her steps, she shakily grabs her key and jams it into the lock, opening it frantically. She slams the door behind her and locks it immediately, quickly looking around to check if the windows of the apartment are closed.

She starts to hyperventilate, feeling a panic attack coming on, and she punches the back of the door, her knuckles screaming in protest. Dropping everything to the floor, she runs to the couch and screams into a pillow, until she can hardly breathe. She screams and sobs until everything goes dark.

* * *

When MJ wakes up, she notices that she’s in her bed with the blankets neatly covering her up. She remembers passing out on the sofa when she got home after crying uncontrollably for what seemed like hours, but she doesn’t remember getting into her bed, much less reaching into her dresser to retrieve the blankets she had put away for the summer. Looking out the window, MJ sees that it’s still dark outside, so it must be sometime in the middle of the night.

“What the _fuck_ happened?”

The words are harsh, but the voice coming from the other side of the room is soft, concerned. It startles her at first, but when her eyes adjust to the dark, she can see Peter sitting on a chair, still in his Spider-Man suit, his mask clutched in his hands.

MJ sits up in her bed, and winces with her movements. She’s extremely sore from the encounter with the men, pain throbbing all over her skin. She starts to feel ashamed, as if what happened is somehow _her_ fault, and has an apology already forming in her brain.

“I get home late from patrolling, only to see you asleep on the couch with tears stained on your face, a busted lip, blood all over your arms and knees,” he pauses, “and I am _terrified_ to even know what else.”

MJ tries to say something, but her voice is practically gone from all the screaming, so it’s just a hoarse, nearly inaudible sound scratching out from her throat.

Peter goes rigid at the sound, and worry engulfs him even more.

“Mary Jane…” He sounds so anguished, like he’s in pain, and he crosses the room in a few long strides to sit next to her on the bed, and MJ flinches almost imperceptibly. He reaches to her bedside table and hands her the glass of water that was on top of it, put there, she figures, by Peter himself.

She takes a sip, and it feels nice and cooling going down her throat, soothing the burn from the effort to yell for help earlier. He takes it from her when she’s finished, and suddenly her throat closes up again and tears spring up into her eyes. Peter grabs her hand, the glove of his suit rough against MJ’s palm, and she involuntarily pulls away. Looking at Peter after she realizes what she did, his body seems petrified at her reaction, almost as if he knows what happened now.

“I’m fine, Peter.” She is finally able to get out, trying to sound reassuring.

“Bullshit,” he replies, but his tone is gentle. “What happened, Mary Jane?” He asks, hands fidgeting on his lap, wanting to reach out to her but refraining to.

“I just got jumped. Three men… I-- I managed to... I managed to get away.” MJ speaks slowly, still amazed at her somehow being able to run away from that situation, and still scared of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t gotten away. She thinks of all the women she knows and all the stories she’s heard and feels deflated at the thought of how many aren’t as lucky as she is.

Glancing to her side, she sees Peter’s jaw tighten and eyes narrow. He looks absolutely infuriated, and if he were any other person, it’d scare her.

“They didn’t… They didn’t--?” He stumbles, barely able to even get the words out, but he doesn't have to; MJ knows what he's asking. When a woman is attacked by men, there's only one place the mind goes to, one thing you immediately wonder.

“No, they didn’t. They tried to, but I got loose.” She tries to ease his mind a little, letting out an enormous sigh.

“...Why didn’t you click the panic button I made you?” He sounds angry, still, though she can tell his anger is not directed at her. His fists clench tight, she can hear the fabric of his gloves rub together in protest.

She whips her head to look at him with a confused expression. She’s about to get mad at him, and tell him that it wasn’t the first thing on her mind, that she couldn’t exactly get to the button inside her bag as she was being restrained. But then she looks into his eyes and sees how utterly worried they are. She starts to understand that all of this is just coming from him wanting her to be safe. Even if it’s not realistic for him to come swinging to her rescue every time she’s remotely in danger.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I forgot. I’ll make sure it’s in my hand every time I walk home from now on, okay?” She’s still staring into his eyes, and his stance eases a little at that.

“You look terrible,” he says, the tone in his voice trying to sound more casual. “You really should get some sleep. I’m going to get you some frozen peas for that lip.” He starts to get up off of the bed, but as soon as he does, MJ grabs his wrist before she even realizes she’s doing it, panicking a little at the thought of Peter leaving her alone here. He pauses, standing in front of the bed looking down at her, concern spreading all over his face again.

“Could you just… Stay here? Just for a while?” MJ asks sheepishly, having had enough of being alone with her thoughts for the day. She feels safer with Peter around, and she doesn’t want him to go.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” His voice sounds soothing, but the sharp edge of worry is still audible, making MJ feel a pang of guilt at being the cause of it.

She lifts up the covers, and Peter crawls into bed without hesitation. She shuffles across the queen size bed to make more than enough room for him, and settles on her back. Peter lies on his side facing MJ, his left arm propping up his head. The space between them is large enough to fit another person, but MJ reaches out to hold on to Peter’s hand as she closes her eyes.

“Thanks, Pete.”

Just as she’s almost succumbing to a deep sleep, exhausted from everything that happened tonight, she hears the faintest sound leave Peter’s lips.  
“I’ll _always_ be here for you, Mary Jane.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Rape attempt
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK!!!

MJ opens her eyes to see that Peter is still sleeping softly beside her; she’s not fully awake yet, being in that state where the borders of the real world aren’t defined yet. She turns her head towards him and lets herself watch him for a little while, the fuzziness of sleep blurring the edges of her vision, making it look like a scene from her dreams.

The words from last night echo in her head, the worry in Peter’s voice, the gut-wrenching look in his eyes at seeing her hurt. For a moment she wraps herself around the warmth of having made him care so much for her, but the light coming through the window makes her blink her eyes and she’s suddenly fully awake.

She doesn’t know what time it is, but decides to get up, now too embarrassed that she’s lying in bed with him like this now that the weight of last night has lifted off of them. She slowly gets out of bed, trying not the wake Peter, and being careful with her wounds, which seem to hurt more now than they did yesterday.

MJ looks down and realizes her clothes from yesterday are still on, so she doesn’t bother to change into anything else.

Just as she’s about to exit her bedroom, there’s a quiet knock at the door, but before she can reach for it, it opens slowly to reveal Harry peeking his head from around the corner.

His eyes go from Peter in MJ’s bed, whose blankets luckily cover his entire Spider-Man suit, to MJ’s face, scanning all of the bruises and cuts. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen, clearly confused as to everything that’s going on. MJ’s heart feels like it’s in her throat and glances down at Peter’s Spider-Man mask on the floor. She subtly steps on it, sliding it under the bed, making a “Shhh” gesture so that Harry will focus on her and not look down at the mask. She walks out the the bedroom, closing the door behind the both of them and let’s out a breath.

“That wasn’t what it looks like.” She answers his puzzled expression, pointing her thumb behind her at her bedroom.

“Not exactly what I was thinking about… What happened to your _face_?!” He asks, visibly shocked.

MJ heads to the kitchen, deciding she’s in desperate need of coffee is she’s going to have to go through what happened last night again, and Harry follows her wordlessly.

Starting the coffee machine, the noise rings too loudly in her ears making her wince, and she slumps down onto a stool, resting her arms on the island and her forehead against them.

“Just got jumped by a few guys, is all.” Her lip is extremely fat now, making her words sound a little funny and Harry strains to understand what she’s saying.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he sits down next to her, concerned and looking at her up and down to find any other injuries.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright” MJ answers, waving a hand dismissively as she listens to the coffee drip.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Harry says with relief. “Are you going to press charges?” He adds, always practical and wanting to do things by the book.

The truth is, MJ hadn’t even thought about it, but she immediately knows it wouldn’t do anything. It was too dark to make any of the men out clearly, and the police would probably tell her it was _her_ fault anyway for walking alone at night in a neighborhood like that. She just wants to forget about it, but she does secretly say a prayer that Peter will run into them one day and teach them a lesson.

MJ gives a shrug of her shoulders in response to Harry’s question, and he can tell she wants him to drop the subject.

He pauses before he starts to speak again, voice a bit graver. “So, they might know where my dad is.”

The news makes MJ nearly jump out of her seat, her head swiveling to meet Harry’s eyes. The thought of this gives MJ mixed feelings and her face starts to heat up at the information. For one, Norman Osborn is Harry’s father; MJ wants Harry to be reunited with his dad because she knows Harry himself wants that. For all that they fight, all Harry has ever wanted is to make his father proud, and he has always leaped at any chance to try and mend their relationship. Two, Harry has no idea that Peter is Spider-Man. Three, Peter doesn’t know that Norman is the Goblin. All this secrecy is getting to her, and she feels like she might burst having to keep all that she knows quiet.

But she wants to be a good friend, so she asks more about it.

“They found a man that fits his description located in Boston right now, and they’re asking him questions. He’s in pretty bad shape, and looks thin, ragged, like he’s been struggling for a while, lost somewhere. Supposedly he’s being uncooperative, either not answering the questions on purpose, or he really doesn’t remember anything. But it might be him, MJ...” Harry says with hopeful eyes.

MJ’s about to say something when she’s interrupted by Peter’s voice.

“Hey, MJ, can you pour me a cup of--” He’s coming from the hall, and before he can finish his sentence, she stops him straightaway.

“ _Aaah_!!!! YEP, I WILL!”

Harry looks confused again, this time for the way MJ yelled and the way her face contorted in startlement at Peter’s voice, and he stares dumbly at MJ while she gives him a forced smile before rushing to the hall, her aching body yelling at her in protest, to find Peter just about to turn the corner to the kitchen still in his Spider-Man suit.

“ _Go change_ **now** _, you bonehead, Harry’s here!_ ” MJ whispers sternly, annoyed at how completely useless Peter is when it comes to the whole secret identity thing.

He starts to giggle as he goes into his bedroom to change, and MJ rolls her eyes. Spinning around on her heel, she enters the kitchen again and Harry is looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What was _that_ all about?” Harry asks with humour in his voice.

MJ tries to think on her feet. “Uh, he was... In his boxers? Thought I’d spare you both the embarrassment.” She bites the insides of her cheeks at the horrible attempt of a cover up.

She starts to pour Peter a cup of coffee to give herself some time to sort out which secrets she’s supposed to keep from whom so she doesn’t spill them in the middle of conversation, and to give Peter enough time to change into a non-incriminating attire before Harry goes looking for him.

“Why was he sleeping in your bed in his box--”

“Harry, my old friend! How are you this fine August morning?”

Peter steps into the kitchen in his normal clothes, dramatically opening his arms as if he hasn’t seen Harry in years, clearly doing it on purpose to change the subject. He walks towards Harry to give him an exaggerated hug and it works, Harry forgets about the question completely.

They start talking about Harry’s dad, and Peter seems genuinely happy that there may have been news on Norman, and MJ thinks to herself that he wouldn’t be so pleased if he knew what Mr. Osborn has done.

She’s wondered many times if she should have told him the truth. She still does. But in the end she always comes to the conclusion that it’s not her place, and it would ruin too much between the three of them. But the guilt she feels at knowing everything threatens to eat away at her if she lets herself dwell on it. So she doesn’t.

Harry excuses himself after about an hour of talking, still being extremely busy with Oscorp and the whole interrogation of his dad, needing to be available at all times to deal with it. He hugs both Peter and MJ goodbye, and Peter ask Harry to keep him posted on any news on his dad, and says a few comforting words, a “hang in there” and “we’re here for you” type of thing that makes MJ’s breath catch in her throat.

After Harry leaves, MJ decides to take a nice, long bath to try and wash away the remains of last night off of her. She doesn't need to be anywhere today, her internship having ended and her next Bugle article not due for another week, for which she's thankful. She doesn't think makeup can cover up all of her cuts, bruising and swelling and she's not up for discussing what happened with anyone else, especially with the people from work.

Walking over to the luxurious bathroom -- sometimes she still can’t get over how great this apartment is --, MJ pulls open a drawer on the cabinet where she keeps things like relaxing bath salts and bath bombs that turn the water different colours. Getting excited over it, she takes her time deciding what she’s going to use.

Remembering the scented candles she bought a few weeks ago -- and could never light for _too_ long because Peter complained it made the apartment smell like “a tea shop run by an old lady,” _in his words_ \-- she makes her way to her bedroom to retrieve them. She’s more than earned the right to burn them after last night, she thinks to herself.

When the tub is full and the water is nice and hot, bubbles and colours floating around in a pretty watercolour way, and the candles are lit, MJ sinks into the water with a satisfied sigh. The tension in her muscles starts to dissipate and she closes her eyes to nearly fall asleep.

Almost as if on cue, though, MJ hears the doorbell. She groans to herself, annoyed, and decides to just not answer it.

It isn’t until the bell rings another 4 times, despite her mentally willing it to stop, that she starts to get a little nervous. She notices she has been a little jumpy since last night, and rightfully so. Reluctantly, MJ gets out of the warm water, cursing under her breath for being disrupted, but mostly because of how affected she is by the simplest of things. MJ grabs a towel, throwing it around herself and walks to the door, holding her breath the entire way. When she opens it, though, she sees a worried May on the other end.

“MJ! Oh, my word! My poor, poor girl.” There are flowers in her hand, and she shuffles to give MJ a large hug, being careful with the visible wounds on MJ’s arm. “I swear… I hate you and Peter being in this damned city!”

MJ looks at May confusedly for a second, and then remembers her face. It’s extremely bruised, the blues and purples under her skin having darkened and worsened overnight, and her lip is fat and cut open; she wishes May wouldn’t have to see her like this.

“May, I… Come in.” MJ wonders why May is here in the first place, but doesn’t want to be rude, so she immediately ushers her in, taking her bags and coat and placing them on the entrance table. May tells MJ that the flowers are for her, so she takes those as well with a smile.

“Let’s go into the kitchen so I can get these in some water.” MJ states, and the thought of the flowers Adrian gave her spring to mind, and how she put them in her room so Peter wouldn’t have to see them.

Once May is seated at the kitchen table, it hits MJ that she only has a towel covering her up. She excuses herself for a moment and makes a quick run to her bedroom to put on just a simple T-shirt and sweatpants, and walks back out.

Looking through the cupboards in the kitchen for a vase to put the flowers in, MJ can’t help herself from asking how May knew what had happened to her, but May doesn’t seem to notice because she keeps going on about how dangerous the city is and how it’s absurd that tax-paying citizens can’t even walk around in peace without being brutally attacked. MJ can see May’s eyes start to glisten a little, so she decides not to press the subject any further for fear of upsetting her even more. She has a suspicion that Peter was the one to let his aunt know, anyway.

“And where’s Peter, dear?” May finally says once their conversation comes to a lull, as if just remembering about her nephew. “It’s so nice that he’s been staying here with you, it really is such a lovely apartment that Harry’s got here.”

“Oh, he’s uh... Errands? I think?” MJ prays to some higher power that Peter won’t come swinging into their apartment in his suit. She glances at the floor-length window in the living room to check, just in case.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, that boy is always so busy,” May chides. “I tell him that he should spend more time at home, with his friends and family, because we won’t be around forever, you know? And especially after poor Gwen…”

MJ’s heart makes an unpleasant leap in her chest at the mention of her friend’s name.

“But he just doesn’t seem to listen to me. I doubt whatever he does is so important to take that much of his time,” May finishes, and MJ thinks to herself how hard it must be for Peter to keep his secret from the person who has basically been his mother for most of his life. It can’t be easy, and it must hurt all the more when he hears May saying things like this, that she thinks he’s running around for no reason.

“Honey, I’m home!” MJ suddenly hears Peter joking, coming around the corner and his voice cuts MJ’s reply to May’s words, and MJ reasons it’s probably for the best. She was about to defend Peter but, knowing herself, she would’ve probably given something away about the real cause of his constant shuffling around, and she knows Peter keeps May in the dark for a good reason.

As Peter’s steps get closer to the kitchen, MJ holds her breath, terrified of what she might see, but as he appears from around the corner, he’s in his regular clothes. She exhales a little dramatically, placing her forehead on the counter in relief.

“Aunt May, y-you’re here!” Peter exclaims, embarrassment evident in his tone. So he _did_ tell her about MJ’s condition.

“Peter, dear, we were just talking about you.” May says lovingly, gesturing him over, and Peter walks up to give her a peck on the cheek.

“All good things, I’m _sure_.” She could be mistaken, but the way he says that makes MJ think he heard what they were talking about just before he walked in.

“Just about how you should take Mary Jane here out to do something fun! To get her mind off of this horrible, horrible thing that happened.” May smiles, pleased with herself.

Now it’s MJ’s turn to be embarrassed. It almost feels like May is trying to set them both up; MJ’s had that suspicion for a while now. Glancing at Peter, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with what May said, even going as far as looking excited, so MJ forces herself to stop looking too much into things. It’s not like Peter likes her or anything, right?

“So, what would Red like to do today?” He asks as he rummages through the fridge, always hungry.

MJ thinks that she doesn’t want to do anything too intense, she was actually looking forward to having a nice bath. It’s not like she’d admit it to herself, but she doesn’t really want to leave the apartment.

“Well, I’ll let you two figure that out. I just came by to make sure MJ was alright, and drop you two off some groceries.” May says, getting up and looking awfully smug as she kisses them both goodbye and Peter and MJ escort her to the front door.

“Y’know, I was swinging around Tribeca earlier and saw, well.. Smelled this new Mexican place,” Peter says to MJ once May has left. “It’s small, doesn’t even look like a restaurant from the outside, but I swear I could smell the food from 30 feet-high.” He rubs his belly when he says this, for emphasis.

MJ huffs a laugh, and Peter wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “Whataya say? You up for some _guacamole_?” he asks trying and failing horribly at doing an accent on the last word.

“...Do they deliver?” MJ hesitantly asks, not wanting to tell him that the thought of leaving the apartment today makes her feel like she might have another panic attack.

Peter is quick, though, and he understands immediately, face falling and that worry spreading over his eyes and furrowing his brow again, which makes MJ’s stomach hurt with guilt.

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. I actually wanted a nice relaxing day in myself, maybe some movies?” He says, but MJ knows it’s for her benefit. The way his eyes linger on her injuries when he talks makes that pretty evident.

“Pete…” MJ starts, dragging his name out, and his worried expression turns into a confused one because of her inflection. “Quit lookin’ at me like I’m a kicked puppy. I’m fine, okay? Really. I just want a quiet night in for a change, it’s not a big deal.”

He looks down and nods his head, clearly not aware his worry was so clear on his face, by the way he visibly forces it into something else. “Well, then that’s what you’ll get!” He says and looks back up at her, clapping his hands. “You gonna get a burrito? ¿ _Enchilaaadaaa_?” He tries, yet again, at the awful accent.

“Surprise me. Just stop making that _voice_.” MJ jokes, making a face and covering her ears with her hands, and Peter walks to get the landline phone to order their food while screaming “¡ _AY CARAMBA_!”

* * *

The doorbell rings, and MJ flinches. She’s getting annoyed with herself at how much last night has affected her, so when Peter gets up to get the door she tells him she’ll get it instead, set on getting past this. He protests, but MJ explains that since he bought their last meal, it’s only fair that she has this one, and heads to the door before Peter can argue any further.

MJ crosses her arms over her chest as she walks down the hall, her fingernails digging into her palms. She keeps telling herself over and over to be cool, and that it’s no big deal, it’s just the delivery guy. Not to mention Peter’s home, so it’s not like anyone would be able to try anything without him being at her side in a second. Taking in a deep breath, MJ takes a look out of the peephole, seeing a young man in a red visor holding big paper bags.

She extends her hand and opens the door, immediately giving the delivery boy the cash and grabbing the food without uttering so much as a word to him. He quickly counts the money and is about to thank her for the generous tip she’s left him (as she always does to people in the food industry; working as a waitress has really made her appreciate their work all the more) but before he can get his voice out, MJ quickly shuts the door, breathless and with a racing heart.

Muttering a curse to herself under her breath, she heads for the kitchen and sets the bags of food on the counter and rummages through the cupboards for the dishes they’ll need. The food really _does_ smell delicious, so MJ makes herself concentrate on that as she calls Peter out to come get his food.

“Oh, my God, it smells even _better_ up close,” he exclaims excitedly as he enters the kitchen. He reaches for the brown paper bags, putting his head inside one of them and taking an exaggerated sniff, throwing his head back in mock ecstasy.

As MJ looks at him and shakes her head with a laugh at his antics, it hits her how truly thankful she is that Peter is somehow able to get her in a better mood within seconds. It goes further than her feeling physically safe around him, though she does. It’s also the sure and steady knowledge set in her bones that as long as he’s around, cracking his horrible jokes and looking triumphant when he manages to get her to laugh at them, everything will be okay.

“How _much_ did you _order_?!” MJ asks in disbelief as she takes out a large amount of styrofoam containers.

“Well I _was_ going to pay, except someone is a little stubborn. Plus, Petey got to eaty.”

MJ raises her eyebrows at him. “Do you even know how lame you are?”

“Hey, I am in my growth stage, you know. I need sustenance or I won’t grow properly!” He states indignantly, raising his hand above his head as though to measure his height.

“Your growth stage ended, like, five years ago,” MJ replies, not missing a beat. “Nerd.”

“You love it.” He says dismissively, as though it’s a fact that he’s known for so long that he doesn’t need to doubt it, and opens one of the containers to see beans and rice, making another dramatic moan in MJ’s general direction.

They eat together at the counter in pure bliss. The only sounds in the air are the mmm’s and ahhh’s escaping their lips every few minutes and the odd intelligible exclamation words trying to explain to the other the tastiness of the food. Despite the plethora of Mexican Peter ordered, they end up eating it all, going in for seconds, thirds, and making fun of each other and belly-laughing when sauce drips on chins or lettuce gets caught in between teeth. MJ thinks to herself that, out of everything in her life, these moments are the ones that she wouldn’t mind reliving all over again, second for second.

She looks over the the scruffy-haired boy on the left of her, sour cream smeared on his cheek, and gets an idea. She has thought about it multiple times since she and Peter had done it that one time, how she felt safe with him while doing so, and she figures if there’s anything that would improve her mood for good tonight, this is it.

“You know what I could go for right now?” MJ suddenly feels a little shy. There’s something so intimate about it that part of her feels it’s out of place to make the request.

“What’s that, Red?” Peter asks through mouthfuls of his fourth burrito and licks the salsa off of his finger.

MJ takes a moment to answer, thinking about what she’s going to say, looking at him till he’s done being occupied with the food and looks back at her. She takes one big gulp of air for courage before she continues.

“Swing across the city with a certain Web Head…” MJ finally gets out, still looking at him, hope glimmering in her eyes.

His eyebrows narrow a little, concern spreading on his face again. MJ’s not sure if the troubling is because he’s still worried about her anxiety, or because he doesn’t want to take a superpower-less girl swinging around a city filled with criminals, but she presses it further, urging him to understand.

“I just feel so safe up there, it’s like nothing can touch me. It’s almost... magical?” She explains, hoping she doesn’t sound too silly.

“Go grab a jacket, then. It gets cold up there.” Peter says and his expression changes immediately to a fond smile.

MJ’s face lights up too, and she sprints to her bedroom, only to slow down a little as she’s still sore. She retrieves a light coat and a scarf, and by the time she exits through the door and walks to Peter’s bedroom, he’s already in his Spider-Man suit, ready to pull the mask over his head.

“Ya know, I’ve never done this with anybody else before besides you. I mean, when people aren’t in life threatening situations.” Peter says as he opens the window behind him that overlooks the city.

MJ is a little confused, and mostly flattered that she’s the only one he’s willing to take along with him. A part of her wonders why he didn’t do it with Gwen, but she decides to not bring it up, the thought alone twisting her stomach unpleasantly. MJ knew Gwen, and getting a buzz off of flying through the sky above the hustle and bustle of New York City wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. The last thing she needs after the couple of days she’s had is to dig up painful memories, so she shakes it off and smiles by way of replying.

Peter extends his hand towards MJ and she grabs it without hesitation. He pulls her towards him with a little too much force, and they bump into each other, her chest hitting his with a faint thud. He doesn’t seem to notice despite MJ’s wincing, being cocky now as he’s in his element, and he looks down at her with a smirk that makes something in MJ’s stomach clench.

“Hang on tight.” He says in a low voice. Hopping up on the ledge of the window, Peter picks her up effortlessly around the waist, the firm grip of his hand securing her against him. She barely has time to catch a breath when he presses the button on his wrist and webbing goes flying across the sky. It hitches onto something, and before she knows it, they’re flying.

Peter starts off slow, swinging low as he picks up momentum and lets MJ get used to the change in air, now much sharper and harder to breathe. Her arms tighten around his shoulders as she feels her feet dangling unsupported and her eyes close involuntarily against the harsh wind, but she forces them open, not wanting to miss anything.

Unexpectedly and against her own will, she is yelling out. They’re high in the sky and she can’t contain it; a loud, excited cheer and delighted laughter echoes off of the buildings. Shortly after, Peter chimes in as well, with a couple of “woo-hoos” of his own, protected up above by the sound of the hectic city below drowning them out.

“Higher!” MJ yells, and he obliges.

He releases a web higher into the sky, connecting with a tall skyscraper, and they sling shot upwards.

“This is amazing!” MJ has to shout over the wind, face lit in pure glee.

They swing for miles and miles, and MJ soaks in every second of it. As the sky begins to get a little darker, Peter swings the both of them on top of a building that has a greenhouse on top of it. MJ’s feet reconnect to the ground and she feels a little wobbly after being up in the air for so long. They must have been doing it for at least an hour. She raises her hand and touches her fingers against her cheek, feeling how cold they are, but the smile is still plastered on her face.

Peter sits on the ledge of the apartment, lifting his mask up, legs dangling off of the edge, and MJ walks over to him and does the same. The view is amazing. The sun is going down over the water and the colours in the sky are breathtaking; light blues fading into yellows, oranges and pure fire-red, water reflecting the last setting rays of light, making them dance against the shallow waves.

There’s a few moments of pure silence, and it’s nice. Peter takes off his mask and MJ leans her head against Peter’s shoulder and closes her eyes. She’s completely and irrevocably content in this moment.

“Mary Jane, I…” Peter starts to say, breaking the silence and still looking out towards the city.

MJ looks up to him, head still on his shoulder, and his face is neutral, but it looks like he’s debating something inside of his head. A few more seconds pass and he looks down, then over at her.

“I’m just glad we did this.” He gives her a crooked smile. “I had no one to share this with before you.”

Something shifts in the air, then, and MJ knows this is a moment she’ll keep coming back to in her mind for as long as she lives. Peter seems to notice it, too, because he moves closer to her, almost imperceptibly so, and the ghost of their hands nearly touching on the ledge seems to shoot sparks all over MJ’s skin.

“We should get home.” Peter suddenly says, something in his voice making it clear he doesn’t actually want to.

“Yeah, The Lord of the Rings Extended Edition trilogy isn’t going to marathon itself.”

He smiles and swiftly gets up, taking her hand and picking her up again, then jumps off the building. Another ecstatic scream escapes MJ as they swing back to their place.

* * *

MJ stares at the microwave, waiting until all the corn kernels pop, counting in her head the space between the popping sounds so the popcorn won’t end up burnt. She absentmindedly chews on her thumbnail, thinking about earlier on the rooftop. Mind racing, debating back and forth with herself on what it possibly could have meant. She’s interrupted by Peter coming behind her and tickling her.

“Damn it, Peter!” MJ says, jumping three feet up in the air. “You know how ticklish I am!” She places her hand on her chest, feeling her heart racing from being snuck up on and tickled.

“Which is why you make such an excellent target.” He says pointedly as he walks to the fridge and takes out some juice, a smile playing on his lips.

She looks at him while she waits for the microwave to beep, wondering what goes on in his mind with faux annoyance, but finds herself reaching for the place where Peter’s hands touched her waist just moments ago.

Once the popcorn is done, they gather all of their assorted junk food from the kitchen cupboards, thanks to May, and bring it to the living room. They sit next to each other on the couch, the popcorn bowl overflowing, the only thing between them. Dimming the lights in the room with a remote, they put on The Fellowship of the Ring to play on the big flat-screen TV.

They’re halfway through the first movie when there’s a knock on the door, and MJ’s stomach drops, being brought back from the fantasy world of the movie too abruptly. She looks at Peter and he pauses the film.

“I’ll get it, Red.” He says when he gets up, giving MJ a reassuring smile.

MJ watches him until he turns the corner, and then she looks down at her hands. She makes a point to tell herself to leave the house tomorrow, even if it’s just to walk to the corner of the street, and not let this get to her anymore.

“It’s for you…” Peter says, voice sounding hollow and distant, and when MJ spins her head around, she sees Adrian standing right next to him.

“Adrian!?” MJ exclaims in surprise, getting up from the couch and starting to feel extremely self conscious with the bruises and cuts on her face. Peter is standing very close to him with his arms crossed over his chest, like he’s suspicious of something.

“Hey, MJ,” Adrian starts, apologetic. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this, but I heard what happened to you and just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“How the hell did you know what happened?” Peter cuts in sharply before MJ even has a chance to ask the question herself. She didn’t tell anyone about it, at least no one Adrian would know. She hasn’t even left the house, save for the web swinging earlier, and it’s not like anyone saw them or could possibly know what happened.

Adrian looks at Peter uncertainly, but when he looks back at MJ, his voice is sly. “I have my ways.”

MJ, whose eyes had been fixated on Peter since he interrupted, wordlessly pleads for neither of them to say anything else so she can have a moment to think about how to handle this absurd situation. Both men are looking at each other like they’re about to jump at each other’s throats,  both standing straight, trying to be taller than the other, and MJ says the first thing that comes to her mind to try and separate them.

“Adrian, can we go to my room so we can talk in private, please?”

Peter looks as though he’s just been slapped across the face when he hears it. He stares at MJ with incredulous eyes, almost as if he’s expecting her to take back what she’s just said, but she doesn’t. He’s about to say something when MJ’s eyes find his and she mouths a desperate “please.” He’s frozen in place as he watches the two of them disappear around the corridor, and MJ’s hands shake as she leads Adrian away from the living room.

They enter MJ’s bedroom and she closes the door behind them. As she looks back to Adrian, he walks towards her and places his hand on her cheek, and MJ flinches a little at the sudden intimacy. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, and he brushes his thumb over the bruises.

“MJ--” He begins to say, but MJ cuts him off by grabbing his hand in hers and taking it off her face, but she holds onto it so he doesn’t get too offended.

“I’m alright, Adrian. It was nice of you to come over, though…” She begins, though she’s still not entirely sure how he found out, and it makes her the slightest bit uneasy.

“It was the least I could do. I don’t want you to worry about coming into IMG. We will have you back as soon as those bruises heal up. But hopefully I can see you before then? Do you want to go out for lunch tomorrow?” he asks in his usual confident tone MJ finds it hard to ignore.

“Oh, uhm… That’s sweet, Adrian. I just…” MJ stammers, not knowing what to say. She still feels a bit shaky and having lunch with Adrian sounds like more than she can take so soon. She really wants to get over, whatever this is, on her own, but she does enjoy his company

“How about you send me a text tomorrow if you do, alright?” Adrian says, letting go of MJ’s hand and walking towards the door. “I can see myself out. I hope I get to see you tomorrow.” He adds, and exits through the door.

MJ waits a few minutes until she’s sure Adrian has left, and she leaves her bedroom as well. When she enters the living room, Peter is sat slumped on the couch, watching some cartoon that MJ doesn’t really pay attention to.

“D’your boyfriend leave, then?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t just see Adrian walk out past him and coldly wish him a good night.

MJ can feel the throb of a headache starting to set on her temples.

“You know he’s not my boyfriend, Peter.” She replies weakly, a little confused as to why Peter seems to care so much. She’s also still wondering how Adrian found out about her condition; everything is just making her head ache.

“No, I don’t know,” he snaps. “He calls you all the time, he shows up on your doorstep in the middle of the night like he’s been here a hundred times before, and you just drop everything when he does.”

“What was I _supposed_ to do? Force him back outside?” MJ’s starting to get worked up, her hand on her hip, something she does when she’s frustrated.

“You sure as _hell_ weren’t supposed to bring him inside _our_ apartment.” Peter tosses his hands in the air like it would be common sense.

“ _You_ were the one who brought him in!” MJ nearly yells, her hands falling to her sides, clenched up in fists. It catches both of them by surprise, and Peter’s stance falters a little, but MJ can tell she got him there. She doesn’t back down, even if she feels slightly bad for getting so loud.

“Look, I just don’t like that guy hanging around you, alright?” Peter says with a little more composure now.

“ _Why_?!” MJ asks, exasperated, gesturing wildly with her arms, finally plucking up the courage to ask what she’s wanted to since the first time Peter acted strangely about Adrian.

Peter pauses for a moment, eyes locked onto MJ’s, and then looks away from her, like he’s debating if he should say something or not.

“I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to go.” He turns his back and starts to walk to his bedroom, which makes MJ furious.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Peter Parker!” She follows him into his bedroom, breathless with anger at how impossible he’s being about this.

“A little privacy?” Peter asks, as he’s now shirtless with his Spider-Man suit in hand.

MJ lets out a childish shout of startlement and stomps away from his bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
“This isn’t over!” She yells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! So after a discussion, we've decided to update chapters every two weeks instead of every week. Thank you SO much to the dedicated fans of this fic; you don't know how much we appreciate it. We're never going to abandon this fanfic, we love it too much. But we will update every second Wednesday (or Thursday if something goes wrong) from now on.
> 
> We adore comments, whether it be just a general comment, or question! We will always answer, so if you find yourself missing the fic, feel free to comment and we will answer right away! :D

It has been a few days since Adrian stopped by, and MJ’s bruises and swelling have gone down almost completely. It’s just the faded colours of her injuries that are visible in the harsh light of the bathroom, and her wounds are only tender if you press down on them hard enough. MJ tells herself she’s one hundred percent better, and ready to get out of the apartment and _do_ something besides sitting on the couch watching bad reality TV.

Peter is definitely still trying to avoid her, because she hasn’t actually been able to talk to him since the other night. They’ll cross paths in the hallway or kitchen every now and then, but he makes sure to be out of the apartment as much as he can, so MJ never gets a chance to start a conversation with him. The most she’ll get is an “excuse me” if she’s standing in front of something he needs.

It’s early in the morning and MJ is planning to head into IMG today. She sits in the kitchen, ildly stirring her Froot Loops around in her bowl, wondering why it always has to be this way with Peter. They’re either making each other laugh until their bellies start cramping, making MJ feel happier than anyone ever could, or they’re yelling at each other enough to make their faces go red which is usually followed with the silent treatment for days afterwards. Not to mention MJ still isn’t sure why this fight happened in the first place, since he didn’t answer her question of why he cares about the situation so much.

Figuring she’ll have time to deal with Peter later, MJ gets up from the kitchen counter, placing her dishes into the dishwasher and makes her way to the bathroom to take a shower before she leaves. She takes her time choosing her clothes and putting on just enough makeup to cover what’s left of her bruises, and a red lipstick to cover the cut that has shrunk but still visible on her lower lip. She wants to look her best so Adrian won’t give her that look he did when he came over, all concern and pity. If she’s done feeling sorry for herself, then she wants others to be done, too.

As she blow dries her hair, school comes to mind. The next semester is starting pretty soon and MJ wonders how she’ll be able to fit the modelling in with that, plus her pursuit of her journalism career. She really wants to make it all work, however difficult it may be. There’s something about modelling that makes her feel invincible and she doesn’t want to give that up.

MJ grabs her purse and leaves the apartment, heading towards the transit system. It’s the first time she has left the house without Peter or Harry since the jumping; it’s just her and no buffer, no one to hold her hand through this and she’s determined to get past it without fuss.

Not even five minutes after she’s left, MJ crosses her arms over her chest defensively and realizes she’s speed-walking, even though it’s daylight and she’s surrounded by people. Forcing herself to slow down a bit, she reaches the station and boards onto the train.

She finds a seat near the window that isn’t occupied and settles down there. To her annoyance, an older man comes and sits beside her, and MJ instinctively leans away and turns her head fully to look outside. Thankfully, he gets that she is in no mood to talk and doesn’t bother her.

The trip is pretty short, as the apartment is in the middle of the city, and she gets off after only a couple of stops. The short journey doesn’t give her enough time to sit alone with her thoughts and work herself up to another panic attack.

Approaching the IMG building, MJ takes a deep breath to sort herself out before opening the glass doors and walking inside straight to the now familiar office. Her head is held high and develops a bit of an exaggerated smile on her face.

“MJ, it’s great to see you again.” The receptionist welcomes her as MJ steps in, all but tossing her hair as if she were striding down a catwalk. MJ is caught off guard by the warm gesture as they’d only met once, so she drops the act somewhat.

“Oh-- thank you, you as well. I don’t have an appointment, but I thought I’d stop by to see if Adrian was in?” MJ says quietly, though some model in the waiting area overhears it and scoffs quite noticeably at her.

“Of course, I’ll tell him you’re here right away.” The receptionist, Martha MJ reads from her name tag, replies helpfully, picking up the phone and dialing his number.

MJ walks back to the waiting room, not wanting to hover around there expecting Adrian to come at her beck and call or get any preferential treatment. However, within a few short minutes, he rounds the corner.

“MJ!” He exclaims, walking towards her, visibly pleased. “I didn’t expect to see you. After you never texted about lunch, I…”  
 _Damn it_. MJ completely forgot about that.

“I assumed that was your boyfriend. The quite... _sour_ man who let me into your apartment.” He gives a mischievous grin. “I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”

“Peter?! No, it’s not like that... Listen, I’m sorry about the whole lunch thing-- things have just been kind of, weird lately. It wasn’t _you_ , it was just everything… I really am sorry.”

“I couldn’t be mad at a face like yours for too long.” Adrian says as he brushes her cheek with his thumb, and MJ wishes he wouldn’t do that in front of all these other models. “In fact, follow me. I’ve got great news.” He says as he starts to head into a meeting room, MJ following closely behind.

“I’ve sent your photographs out to multiple companies, and most of them want you to model for their products immediately,” he starts, spreading several magazines on the big meeting table to illustrate his point. “Fashion, beauty, fragrance, you name it. They’ve even been fighting over who gets to have you first, because they know, like I do, that you are supermodel material, and whoever publishes you first can say they helped launch you. Which is great for business.” Adrian smiles.

Part of MJ is convinced Adrian is just bluffing to try and make her feel better for what happened to her, because there’s no way she could be so requested. She’s just an unknown who’s been in the business for five minutes, surely no one even cares about her. But as Adrian turns on the big computer in the room and starts going through the emails he’s exchanged with magazine editors and up-and-coming stylists, MJ slowly lets herself be convinced. All of them have wonderful comments about the photographs Adrian had attached to the messages, about how beautiful MJ’s hair is, or how striking her big green eyes are, and how natural and unabashed she looks on camera.

“So, what do you say?” Adrian asks. “Can I make some phone calls?”

MJ’s stomach is doing flips. She knows she wants to see where this industry takes her, but she has no idea where to begin, and she’s thankful for Adrian being there to help her along.

“Who should I book myself with first?” MJ asks confidently, and Adrian beams, satisfied.

The discussion gets him going for a solid 20 minutes, debating back and forth what’s best for her career, what he’s seen work, his tips, the right steps to take and the ones to avoid. MJ listens intently, trying to take it all in and not being shy about asking questions when she doesn’t understand something. She wonders if her questioning is silly, but Adrian seems more than happy to answer any doubts she has.  
It turns out the places that want MJ aren’t as high profile as she initially anticipated, which she’s sort of happy for; she’s not sure if she can handle all of that pressure on her first booking. But they’re still a big enough deal to make her a little nervous, even with Adrian assuring her she’ll be brilliant in it.

After about another 10 minutes and much more debating, MJ narrows her choices down to three companies. The two of them go through previous campaigns and the models they’ve worked with, and the type of promotion that will be involved, just to make sure they aren’t asking for anything MJ isn’t willing to do. She secretly appreciates how Adrian shares his thoughts on each question she asks him but tells her that, ultimately, it’s her gut feeling that matters in the long run.

Adrian himself seems happy with MJ’s decision and lets her know he’ll arrange all the meetings necessary with the companies so she can talk to them more thoroughly and make her final call.

* * *

 

About a week passes, and MJ is trying to figure out her class schedule for the next semester when she gets a call from Adrian. He tells her he’s made the appointments and to meet him at IMG later in the day so they can go through them together.

Peter hasn’t given her any signs he’s even staying at the apartment anymore. She has to check up on him in his room when he’s sleeping every now and again to make sure he’s alright. She tells herself she needs to get busy with other things so it doesn’t get her down, and that’s why she’s been getting her butt kicked for the last hour trying to figure the university’s website out. She knows exactly what she wants to do, but the amount of classes she wants to take is a lot bigger than the time she has. Most of them are extra, anyway, and not required for her major. It’s been giving her a headache, so she decides to get up and take a shower to leave for her meetings, deciding she can make up her mind about all of this school stuff later.

After talking to the companies for a couple of hours, and being so professional and stern about what she wants and doesn’t want that she even surprised herself, MJ finally chooses which one she would like to work with. Once she does, they tell her they want her to come in as soon as possible so they can put her face on the new billboard they have going up in the city within the next couple of weeks, as the model they originally had bailed on them at the last minute.

The thought of her first job being a huge billboard terrifies her, but it’s exciting at the same time. By the expression on Adrian’s face from across the table, she feels like she made the right choice in picking this company.

He offers to drive her over to their lot for the test shoot, as they want her to meet the photographer immediately so he can know what he’ll be working with and redesign the campaign to fit MJ’s unique look. After declining a couple of times, telling him she’ll just take a cab, or the subway-- even though she really can’t afford a taxi there and she has no idea where she’s even supposed to go-- Adrian insists, as he’ll need to be there anyway, since he’s now her manager, and MJ relents.

The company’s studio isn’t far, just outside of Manhattan, and Adrian and MJ drive there in his slightly intimidating, very expensive car. She figured they’d have a driver of some sort, but Adrian has always liked to keep it very intimate when it came to just him and her.

MJ doesn’t know what to expect when she gets there, only having posed for Adrian himself in his personal studio, and excitement and butterflies are dancing around in her stomach, making Adrian laugh gently at the nervous foot-tapping she’s doing.

“You’ll be _fine_ , MJ” he tells her, and she replies with a little high-pitched squeak.

Once they arrive at the studio, which MJ notes that is very similar to Adrian’s, with the same sort of equipment lying around, just in a larger scale, she’s ushered straight to the hair and makeup chair. Two very stylish young women wait for her to get primped; one of them has bright green hair, and MJ can see tattoos snaking around the entire length of the other’s arms. Despite their unusual looks, they’re friendly and make MJ feel right at home.

About forty minutes later, they’re done, and MJ’s hair is so fluffed, backcombed and hair-sprayed that it gives her a whole extra foot in height. Her already prominent cheekbones are even more sculpted with the contouring and highlighting the makeup artist did on her, and her eyes are framed with a dark smoky colour, making her green eyes pop.

Stylists rush over to get MJ and lead her by the arm to a couple of racks of sample clothes. She didn’t know how fast everything would be, but it seems like everybody is determined to be on schedule.

They decide on skintight black jeans and a loose white tank top for MJ to wear for the first few frames, and she changes into them immediately. They hand her these enormous black high heels, and MJ’s a little scared since she hasn’t properly worn heels before, at least not in a professional setting where she’s meant to pose and stand in them for long periods of time, but she manages to pull them off for now.

She’s not sure whether a regular manager would be here for all of these steps, but Adrian has just been standing by casually, talking to random people. He looks important, and he looks at MJ every now and then, giving her approving smiles and winks.

The photographer isn’t like Adrian, who wanted MJ to smile and let loose. He wants her to pose a little more than she did a few weeks prior. He’s professional and kind, with a thick Brazilian accent

When he tells her to do something with her arms, she lifts one over her head and does the Scratching-The-Back-Of-The-Neck thing that Peter does, and the photographer loves it. He tells her to smolder and to look wild and intense, and the clicks and flashes keeping going off as MJ tries new poses.

Between every 10 to 20 shots, there’s somebody that comes in to touch something up, appling more lipstick, placing a strand of hair in another direction, and the flashing lights and fussing over her make MJ feel smothered and like it’s all a bit too much to handle right now.

She asks if she can take a tiny break, and they’re understanding, letting her have 5 minutes as everyone busies themselves with changing backdrops, bringing out more clothes and changing the lighting setup around. Adrian whispers something into the photographer’s ear as she leaves the set, and MJ wonders what it was.

The room they’re in looks like an old apartment turned into a photography studio with large floor-length windows that open up to a big balcony, and MJ thinks it’s a perfect place to take a minute to breathe. They’re high up in the building and MJ can see New York’s entire skyline from here, and the sun is shining just right to make shadows dance on the asphalt. The city looks even bigger from this angle, the streets are busy with cars and crowds, and it comforts MJ to know she’s just another person in this sea of people. It takes the pressure off of her, somehow, that she doesn’t need to carry the weight of things alone. If she messes things up, there is still a world outside that won’t stop moving.

After she regains her composure, MJ walks back on set and, before she knows it, four hours have gone by. They’ve had her in dresses, pant suits, casual clothes, dressed-up clothes. Her hair has been pinned up, braided, taken down, curled and straightened and they tried convincing her to do a couple of shots in lingerie, but MJ declined. She’s not necessarily opposed to the idea, but the day has been long enough and she wants to take this slow.

“I think we have everything, _meu amor_. You were perfect, this campaign just _screams_ your name,” Gabriel, the photographer, says, flatteringly. MJ feels herself blushing and glances at Adrian to see a big grin on his face.

“In fact, I think we might not even need to book a second appointment,” the campaign manager chimes in, her voice sounding relieved and pleased. “Today was only meant to be a trial run, but I’ve been looking at the pictures and they look so great that I wouldn’t forgive myself if we didn’t use them. It was quite the ordeal considering our first model quit, but you’ve helped made this a huge success, MJ.”

MJ doesn’t know a lot about the modelling world other than it’s supposed to be a brutal and unforgiving career, so all of these compliments are making her head spin, and part of her worries if they’re genuine. Everyone she’s met today seems lovely, though, so she chooses to give them the benefit of the doubt and to revel a bit in her successful day.

Saying goodbye to everybody with warms hugs and exchanged phone numbers, MJ and Adrian head out, and she feels his hand on her lower back as they walk outside to his car.

“You were amazing in there. I knew I was right about you.” He says, opening the car door for her.“What do you say we go out to celebrate soon? You can bring your friends along, too.”

MJ’s in such a high that she agrees immediately, not even considering that her closest friend isn’t even talking to her right now, and seems to hate Adrian anyway.

* * *

 

A couple of weeks fly by almost unnoticed because of how busy MJ is. Between preparing for university, the Bugle, and modelling, school kind of just snuck up on her. And since she has no time for anything else, MJ and Peter still haven’t talked yet.

MJ packs her bag with her books and pens and everything else needed for her first day back at university. Seeing as her and Peter no longer live at the dorms and Peter has only been staying at May’s on weekends occasionally, they need to bus their way to ESU now. They had planned on doing so together many weeks prior to today, but when MJ’s ready to leave, Peter is nowhere to be found.

She sighs and slings her backpack over her shoulder, exiting through the front door to make her way to the transit station alone. MJ looks back into the apartment one last time towards Peter’s room in the hopes he’ll come rushing out with his bag bursting with heavy Physics books, apologizing for being late like he always is. But, when she’s met with a silent apartment, she mentally kicks herself for feeling disappointed over it and starts walking out.

Arriving at the stop that’s just outside of the apartment, MJ presses “play” on her iPod and sits on the bench, waiting for the bus to come. She sees somebody in the corner of her eye, but it isn’t until they’re intensely poking her on the shoulder repeatedly does she take her earbuds out and looks to see who it is.

Peter.

“Um. _Ow_ …?” MJ says, frowning at him as she half-heartedly rubs the skin on her shoulder.

“What… _The hell_ …” Peter says irritatedly and flings his arms up in the air like she should not only know exactlywhat’s bothering him, but she should also fix it immediately. MJ just returns a raised eyebrow, clearly not following what has upset him _now_. It’s hard to keep track.

He lets out an exasperated sigh like a petulant child, annoyed at having to explain himself, and retrieves his phone from his jean pocket. Scrolling through it, trying to find something, he finally turns it around and extends his arm, putting the screen right in front of her face.

She moves her head back a bit and squints her eyes trying to see better, and when she does, she thinks for a second that the screen has gone dark and she’s just looking at her reflection. Once her eyes adjust, she does see herself, but on a huge billboard. Right in Times Square. Wearing one of the beautiful outfits she had on a couple of weeks ago at the photoshoot. Peter must have taken a photo of it from up high earlier today. She had no idea they’d be released so soon, and she certainly didn’t think the ad would be that big and noticeable. And right in the middle of the single busiest place in the whole of New York City.

It makes MJ feel a little lightheaded, and she wishes someone at the company or Adrian would’ve told her about it beforehand, so she’d have time to prepare herself. She thankfully doesn’t go by Times Square all that much, so that saved her from being blindsided by her own face, hugely blown up about forty feet up in the air.

“Are you really still upset about the whole modelling thing?” MJ finally asks after staring at Peter with a blank face, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not angry at him, just irked at always being the target of his mood swings.

“Get over yourself, Mary Jane, it has nothing to do with you modelling. It has _everything_ to do with a massive 30 by 70 bulletin board of your _FACE_ in the most populated area in the entire city. Are you _TRYING_ to become a target? Do you get a _KICK_ out of stressing me out?!”

MJ purses her lips and just stares at Peter trying to suppress a laugh, clearly doing an awful job at it. She’s seldom seen him lash out like this at her before and giggling is the last thing she should be doing, but it’s just beyond her control.

“This is funnyto you? You honestly don’t think that this was a bad idea, at all? Why didn’t you just paint a bullseye right on your forehead, that would’ve had the same effect.” He’s not even looking at her now, staring at something past her as if looking at her would just make him more upset.

“Peter… calm down, I--”

“Calm down?! This is hopeless…” He cuts her off.

MJ pushes all of the anger away that’s bubbling up, focusing on that Peter being upset just means he’s worried about her and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her. So, she gets an idea and wants to try something to hopefully break the tension between them, so that they can at least stop pretending the other isn’t home when they’re both in the apartment.

“Come on, you see a planet-sized picture of me and all you can think of is that some weirdo is gonna kidnap me?” She starts, making her voice as playful as possible. “What about my huge nose? That’s got to be the size of an SUV at the least, right?”

She sees Peter’s jaw unclenching a little at the joke, and a shadow of a smile plays on his lips. She’s about to make another self-deprecating comment she knows Peter finds funny when he replies.

“Your nose _does_ look huge in the billboard,” He begins, his anger flushing out of him with each word. “It looks bigger in real life, though.”

MJ’s chin drops in fake shock, and he just looks at her impressed with himself.

The bus rolls up and Peter waits for MJ to step onto it first. After shes in  the vehicle, she looks behind her to see Peter isn’t there anymore. MJ thought that the jokes worked somewhat, but he’s evidently still upset about whatever it is that started this in the first place.

MJ sighs and sits down, putting her headphones back on.

* * *

 

The first day of school is breezy, basically just professors saying what they expect from them and all the students getting their bearings. When MJ gets back to the apartment after her classes, she notices a voicemail notification on her phone, and presses play with confusion. She doesn’t really get a lot of phone calls.

“Hey, gorgeous, it’s Adrian. I hope you haven’t forgotten about our little dinner date now that your billboard is high in the sky. How’s Friday for you and your friends? I know a great place just on Times Square so we can show them your beautiful ad after we eat. Let me know how that works for you. _Ciao_!”

_Oh. Right._

She’d completely forgotten that she agreed to have dinner with Adrian in celebration of her first proper modelling job. And she also forgot she’d have to bring friends along.

It’s not that she doesn’t have friends, it’s just… complicated. Peter would never want to meet Adrian for dinner and, even if he did, MJ knows he’d just sulk all night. They’re probably going to a really fancy place, anyway, and she knows Peter doesn’t feel comfortable with that sort of thing. It would just make for an awful night.

Setting her bag down on her bed to take out the books she’ll need to do her homework tonight, MJ tries to think of a solution to her problem. She could always just go alone, but she doesn’t want Adrian to think she doesn’t have any friends. She cares about what he thinks of her, somehow.

She’s about to pull her hair out in frustration when her mind makes a connection. A friend... Who has nothing against Adrian… Who’s used to fancy places… _Eureka_!

MJ slaps her forehead in recognition, feeling stupid as to why she didn’t think about this in the first place, and quickly reaches for her phone to send a text message.

_“Hey Harry!_

_What do you say we go to dinner Friday night? Bring a date, it’ll be fun!_

_Love MJ”_

Almost immediately after she hears her phone ping.

_“Sounds great, just text me the details!_

_xx Harry”_

* * *

 

When Friday rolls around, MJ starts getting ready an hour before she needs to leave for dinner. They all agreed to meet at the restaurant, even though Adrian insisted on picking MJ up at her apartment. It would’ve been too much drama if he showed up while Peter’s home, and MJ is having a hard time enough trying to think of what to tell him when he sees her all dressed up. If he even asks at all.

She wants to look really good, because she knows they’re going to a fancy place and she can’t stand the look on the hostess’ face when they think you’re beneath their little restaurant. She’s been on the receiving end of that look one too many times. She knows her Photoshopped, made up, professionally photographed billboard is going to be staring at her right in the face, and she’s determined not to look like a dishcloth in comparison to it.

MJ’s just finishing up her makeup when she hears the familiar shuffling of Peter’s feet coming towards her bedroom, and she holds her breath, wondering if he will talk to her this time.

There’s a faint knock on the door and Peter peeks his head around it.

“Hey, you wanna get Chinese tonight? I’m kinda hungr-- Oh. You going out?” Peter says, entering the room and looking at MJ from the reflection of her dressing table mirror, his voice clearing deflating.

“Yeah, it’s just a silly thing for the billboard launch. A lot of people will be there.” MJ replies, hoping she sounds convincing. “We can do Chinese tomorrow, though! I’ll even let you have my fortune cookie.”

“Sure, yeah, no problem,” Peter mutters, sounding disappointed. “Have fun tonight.”

He leaves the room with his shoulders slightly slumped, and MJ places her head on the dresser, hating herself a little bit.

* * *

 

MJ gets to the restaurant just in time, and walks up to the hostess with her chin up, trying not to look too intimidated. She didn’t need to worry, though. When she walks up, the preppy girl at the entrance takes a look at her and immediately out to the billboard that’s visible from the restaurant, and offers her the best smile she can fake. When MJ announces her reservation is in Adrian’s name, famous around these parts, the hostess nearly trips over her own feet ushering MJ in to show her the table.

Adrian is already there and greets MJ with a smile when she approaches, getting up so he can pull out a chair for her to sit and gives her a quick peck on the cheek.

“You look amazing,” he says while he pushes the chair in as she sits down. “Anybody else coming?” He asks, sounding a little hopeful that the answer will be no.

“Yes, my friend Harry and his date are on their way.”

He nods, and when the waiter makes her rounds, Adrian asks for a fancy sounding wine for the table.

MJ gives the waiter a smile as he leaves, remembering her brief stint as a waitress and the vow she made afterwards to always be extra nice to every server. Just after, she notices Harry coming towards their table escorted by the hostess that helped her earlier. MJ can’t help the large grin that appears on her face immediately at the sight of her friend and gets up from her chair, probably a little faster than what’s ladylike, to greet him.

“Harry!” MJ booms, and Harry returns the large smile. They wrap each other in a hug and MJ feels a bit of the pressure of tonight lift off of her shoulders.

“You look phenomenal, MJ. Not to mention that billboard outside, good Lord!”

“Stop it.” MJ blushes. She can hear Adrian clear his throat a little, and she rushes to amend her forgotten pleasantries.

“Oh! Harry, this is Adrian.”

The two men shake each other’s hands firmly, and then Harry steps aside to show his date, making MJ remember he was supposed to bring someone with him. The girl is tall, though not as tall as MJ, and has piercing blue eyes framed by thin-framed glasses. Her light brown hair is up in a stylish messy bun, and MJ can’t help but think she knows her from somewhere.

“This is--” Harry begins to introduce them, but the girl interrupts.

“You’re MJ, right?” She asks with a smile. “I’m Carlie. Carlie Cooper. We met in that cafe before. The girl who liked your articles.” She adds after registering the confusion on MJ’s face.

“Right! Of course. Wow, small world?” MJ finally adds and they all sit down, Harry beside MJ and Carlie across from him.

“How did you two meet?” MJ curiously asks, not to anyone in particular.

“Well, Carlie here works for the NYPD, and is one of the detectives helping me with my… Dad’s situation.”

“Wow, you serve and protect?!” MJ sounds surprised, and feels silly that they’re celebrating her for a giant billboard of her face. “Um, sorry, continue.”

“We’ve been working together for a bit now on the whole thing,” Carlie takes over, “and he asked me out for dinner tonight to thank me, though he definitely didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“Well, that’s Harry for you. He’s a sweetheart and will always go out of his way to make sure you’re well taken care of.” MJ talks up her friend proudly.

“Did you two used to…?” Carlie asks.

She’s very straightforward, MJ notices. With coming up to her that one day in the cafe to tell her how she felt about MJ’s articles, introducing herself, and now this question, she can definitely tell that Carlie is a police officer. Despite MJ feeling a little embarrassed about the question, she respects this girl for being so direct.

Neither MJ or Harry answer right away, both try to avoid each other’s eyes in the uncomfortable silence that follows, which makes Carlie chime in again.

“I will take that as a yes.” She giggles a little, clearly not bothered by it, but by the look on Adrian’s face, MJ knows he’ll ask about it later.

The restaurant is one of the oldest and most traditional of the city, and so ostentatious that for a moment, MJ imagines herself in the dining room from “Titanic.” There are large crystal chandeliers holding an array of lit candles hanging from the ceiling, thick velvet curtains adorning the windows and patterns carved so intricately on the heavy wood on the chairs and tables that you can see the tiniest detail of every inch that was worked on.

The food is as impressive as the decor, and the four of them exchange compliments about their food in between conversation. The wine for the meal Adrian ordered makes everyone feel a little more chatty, and the group gets to know a lot about each other, and mainly about Carlie. She continues to be blunt and direct, but MJ notices she’s starting to like the girl.

Carlie tells them that the reason she wanted to join the police force was because her father was an officer himself, and she’s always admired his job.

“Well, it turns out my dad wasn’t actually a good cop,” she says, slurping up a long strand of spaghetti. “But it made me want to join the boys in blue anyway. To keep those rotten apples from spoiling the damn bunch, you know?”

Carlie keeps everyone entertained by telling funny stories from her undercover days, and seems really interested in MJ’s modelling job, asking questions about what it was like to shoot the ad for the billboard. MJ thinks to herself that it’s really nice to have a girl to talk to again.

After dinner, which Adrian and Harry insist on paying for, the four of them go out into Times Square to look at MJ’s ad. She feels a little hesitant about it, like she’s showing off something that’s not even a big deal, but Carlie has MJ pose in front of it making silly faces so she can take pictures of it with her phone, and that makes her laugh her apprehension away.

Once the evening comes to an end, they all say their goodbyes, MJ making sure to get Carlie’s number, and Adrian drops MJ off at her apartment, despite her saying it wasn’t necessary. After she gives him a kiss on the cheek and thanks him for a wonderful evening, he doesn’t follow her out of the car, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

MJ enters her apartment and drops her keys on the entrance table, on top of mail that wasn’t there before. The one addressed to Peter has already been opened and the one addressed to MJ lays right next to it.

Grabbing the letter, she begins to rip open the envelope as she walks to the kitchen, the tiny portions of food at the restaurant not filling her up fully.

_Ms. Mary Jane Watson,_

_We would like to formally invite you to the 33rdAnnual Daily Bugle Gala._

_On Saturday, September 19th from 8 PM to midnight._

_The Affinia Manhattan Hotel, Classic Ballroom, Manhattan, New York. Please RSVP to Ms. Brant at 917-555-9851._

Attached to the formal invitation is a blue sticky note with Jonah Jameson’s sloppy handwriting.

_MJ -_

_No need to RSVP. You’ll need to be there to write about it._

_No plus ones!_

_JJJ_

MJ laughs while rolling her eyes at her boss. It’s just like him to make what could be a really fun night all about work. But at least Peter will be there to-- Oh, right. MJ remembers that they’re still not entirely talking to each other, and her declining the offer for Chinese tonight probably just upset him even more.

Deciding that this situation has gone on for long enough, she is determined to reconcile once and for all. She walks to his bedroom still feeling the slightest buzz from the wine earlier in her skin, and crosses her fingers for him to be there.

“Pete?” MJ knocks on the door and opens it a little without waiting for a reply.

She can see him lying on his bed with earbuds on listening to music loudly, and when MJ steps fully into the room, he looks at her and takes them out.

“Mary Jane.” He says in surprise, eyebrows raising and he sits upright on his bed.

“Hey, Tiger. Want to order some Chinese?” She asks, hopeful.

After a moment, Peter smiles crookedly.

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to anyone who guesses the little classic 616 reference in this chapter!

The day of the Bugle’s gala arrives, and MJ has to run some errands before she even _thinks_ about getting ready. She told Peter that she would pick up his suit ( _of the formal attir_ e) from the dry cleaner’s while she’s out so that he can go patrolling before he takes pictures for tonight’s gala.

Also on the list of things to do is to buy another can of hairspray if MJ has any hopes of her hairdo lasting all night. She’s also pretty sure there’s a huge pimple threatening to pop up right in the middle of her forehead that she’ll need to cover up with a good industrial-strength concealer.

As MJ makes her way to the drugstore, somebody bumps into her, causing her to nearly fall over. MJ’s just about to yell at them for just standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that when the person turns around, stopping MJ in her tracks.

“MJ! Oh, my God, hi!”

“Carlie! What are you doing here?” MJ asks, barely recognizing her. Carlie’s hair is up in a tight ponytail and she’s wearing a dark blue suit with matching pants, and her detective badge is pinned on her lapel. It makes her look very important, and also very intimidating.

“I’m just here getting a coffee. I decided to take my lunch outside today,“ she replies cheerfully. “Somehow, eating a stale sandwich out of a dirty paper bag in a cramped office just isn’t doing it for me. I was tempted to get a doughnut too, but I didn’t want to play into the stereotype. Also, _carbs_.”

MJ laughs genuinely and the girls get to talking. When MJ mentions the gala and the amount of things she has to do before getting ready, Carlie offers to be her _chauffeur_ for an hour.

“It’s okay, I don’t live far, you don’t have to,” MJ protests, not wanting to be a bother.

“Oh, come on, I am so bored! It’s like the big-time criminals have taken a vacation to Jersey, or something,” Carlie retorts. “I’ve had three full days last week with nothing to deal with but petty thefts! Besides, are you really going to carry a spotless suit on the subway? It’ll be dirtier than when you left it at the cleaner’s!”

MJ reminds herself that she doesn’t always have to decline people’s help, and both girls get into Carlie’s police car.

They start to drive to MJ’s next destination for her errands, and Carlie puts on the sirens when there’s a red light so they can speed through it, causing them both to laugh.

“So, what do the cops think of Spider-Man?” MJ asks, not entirely sure where it came from.

“Hmmm… Well, I think a lot of them are suspicious of his true intentions,” Carlie replies thoughtfully. “If all he wants is to do good and catch criminals then why doesn’t he just join the police, you know?”

MJ considers that for a moment, and it sounds like a reasonable concern if you don’t take superpowers or monster-like villains into account. Or the fact that people already chastise anyone that is a little bit different from them, let alone a guy that can stick to walls.

MJ is about to get a little defensive, arguing that it would be dangerous to him and his loved ones if he showed his identity, but luckily she’s interrupted.

“But can I tell you a secret?” Carlie says, drawing MJ from her thoughts.

“Of course!” she replies, suddenly feeling like an excited teenager.

Carlie waits until they get to a red light and she doesn’t use the sirens this time, stopping the car instead so she can lift up her shirt a bit and show MJ something on her hip.

“You have a Spider-Man tattoo?!” MJ nearly shouts, completely stupefied.

The brunette laughs at MJ’s tone and nods her head in response, tucking her shirt back in.

They arrive at the dry cleaner’s and both girls get out of the car and walk into the small establishment.

“I just think he’s a good guy, you know?” Carlie starts as the employee goes into the back to retrieve Peter’s suit. “How can I be against a guy that saves lives every day? It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing a different kind of uniform. My dad was a police officer for over thirty years and all he did was lie and cheat. The suit doesn’t change the person inside.”

MJ lets out a breath, relieved and touched that there are people out there who think like Carlie does, and that makes the other girl’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, my God, I just totally went too deep, didn’t I?” she scolds herself, but MJ reassures her that it’s alright.

“It’s nice to see that some people get what Spider-Man’s doing. I’m sure he appreciates it.” MJ adds.

Once MJ’s done with her errands, Carlie makes sure to drop her off at her apartment and the girls make plans to have a girls’ night out soon, and MJ enters the building with her mood a lot lighter than when she left.

* * *

MJ decides to tackle her hair first, as that will probably be the most time-consuming. She goes for a slick backed ponytail that pulls the hair away from her face, but it falls curly and long in the back. Classy, but not too elaborate for somebody like MJ to do.

She settles for a simple eyeliner with a bright red lip and rosy cheek, applying the concealer over her spot that’s forming on her forehead, giving it a dirty look as if warning it not to try and get any bigger during the night.

The dress she chose is absolutely beautiful, Adrian has lent it to her for the night. It’s light teal and floor-length, with thin straps that rest on her delicate shoulders and a slit that shows her leg when she walks. It looks as though it was custom made for her, the way it fits her body, and MJ actually likes what she sees when she stands in front of the mirror wearing it.

“MARY JANE! We’re gonna be late!” Peter yells from the hallway. “The car is here to pick us up.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” MJ says, and quickly grabs her clutch.

She picks up the fabric of her dress, in fear she might trip over it with her first pair of heels she ever bought. With them on, she’s at least 5’11 and feels empowered, and she’s sure a tumble would make her deflate in a second, so she’s being cautious.

Opening the door of her bedroom for the first time in two hours, despite Peter whining that he’s bored for the last hour and a half, she enters the hallway.

Peter is fidgeting with the collar of his jacket with an annoyed expression, but once he hears MJ’s heels on the wooden floor, he looks up and meets her eyes, his expression going into one of pure surprise.

He looks at MJ up and down, and it makes her feel like when he was looking at her during their high school’s prom, making MJ’s breath catch a little. He looks handsome as ever and she feels the familiar butterflies in her stomach that only Peter can cause to rise up again, breaking down every wall she had built around these feelings over the last few months.

“Mary Jane, you look…” Peter starts, still staring at her.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going to be late.” She says and walks towards Peter, grabbing his hand and exiting out the door. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

The Bugle car is big, but nothing too fancy; MJ guesses the real stuff has been reserved for JJJ tonight, but it beats having to take a taxi all the way to the party.  Peter opens the door for MJ, and she tries to enter the towns car as gracefully as she can in the 4 inch heels.

They drive to the gala with a few words here and there. Peter looks particularly nervous, and MJ isn’t sure why. She’s suddenly far too aware of her exposed leg that is inches from Peter’s hand, and her cheeks start to heat up.

Luckily they arrive only a few minutes later, and MJ’s thankful for the cool air on her skin as they exit the car. She takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the amount of work she’ll have to do tonight.

She’s just about to enter the hotel when Peter grabs her hand to stop her. Turning around, she looks back at him.

“Let me take your picture in front of the hotel?” He asks as he holds up the camera that’s hung around his neck.

“Oh. Sure.” MJ says, and poses ridiculously until Peter gives her a pretend-annoyed look, so she smiles and he snaps away, neither of them paying attention to the people coming and going around them.

“Alright, now come here.” MJ says, nudging her head and Peter walks towards her.

She grabs the strap and takes it off of Peter’s neck, extending her arm out with the camera, and takes a picture of the both of them while she kisses his cheek.

MJ starts to laugh because now Peter has a huge, red lipstick mark on his cheek, and she wipes it off with her thumb. Handing over the camera to him, she links arms with Peter and they both enter the fancy hotel and give the bouncer their invitations.

* * *

Peter and MJ mingle a little, eating some appetizers and basically just keeping to themselves sans the couple of times a flustered Betty will run by smiling at them, clearly still doing things for JJJ.

It isn’t until about an hour in that Peter tells MJ he has to go and take photos of some things, and she’s left to observe the party and try to remember as much of it as possible for her article.

Deciding to explore the hotel, MJ grabs a glass of champagne and exits to a nice patio that overlooks New York. It’s a bit chilly out here, but all the lamps and candles are enough to keep warm. She watches people chatting up others, looking important out in the courtyard. The women in all their pretty dresses and the men in their tuxes.

Her mind wanders to everything that has happened to her in the past few years, things that most people won’t experience in a lifetime, and it feels like a lot to carry. But it has made her stronger and she’s extremely proud of who she’s become; she can see that clearly now.

Her only regret is that Gwen can’t be here to see it all. MJ has tried really hard to move on with her life, but there isn’t a day that goes by when she doesn’t think of her friend. She still catches herself wanting to text Gwen about something that happened during the day, or thinking for a moment that she’s only gone to work at Oscorp and will be back in time for dinner. Gwen should’ve been here with her, and the fact that she isn’t makes MJ’s stomach churn with guilt.

“Hello, miss.” She hears somebody behind her, and she swivels so she can see who it is.

She has never seen the man before. He has blonde hair and is quite tall, MJ suspects he’s in his late 20s. He looks like he fits right in with the crowd at the party.

“I just noticed you standing here alone and I thought I’d introduce myself.” He walks a little closer to her, and MJ gives a polite smile.

“I’m Eddie. Do you work at the Bugle?”

“I’m MJ. Yeah, only part time, though. I’m a writer If that’s what you can even call it. I just take care of the articles that nobody else really wants to write,” she jokes.

“Ah, I'm a journalist too, but I'm normally out on the scene, which explains why I don't see you much. What a shame.” He replies.

MJ bites her bottom lip and shuffles a little uncomfortably on her feet, understanding now that he’s hitting on her.

“Mary Jane?” Peter’s voice calls out from the entrance of the ballroom.

Tilting her head slightly so she can look past Eddie, she sees Peter staring at them with a quizzical expression. He immediately makes his way over to them, slightly puffing out his chest while he stands next to MJ, facing the other man with an unreadable look.

“I hope I get to see you again tonight.” Eddie tells MJ, kissing her hand before he walks away.

Once he’s out of voice range, Peter gives a raised eyebrow.

“Who was that?”

“I’m not really sure.” MJ replies truthfully.

“Hm. Anyways....” Peter changes the subject, sounding a little annoyed. But when he clears his throat, the irritation seems to fade. “Do you want to dance with me?”

MJ can’t stop the smile that appears on her face, and she starts to feel those familiar butterflies again.

They enter the ballroom as a slow song is playing, and Peter takes MJ’s hand in his and places his other on her waist. She’s only ever seen him move so smoothly and confidently when he’s swinging around the city.

MJ puts her arms around Peter’s neck, her ear pressing against his, and she closes her eyes. Whenever she thinks she’s over him, her feelings come creeping back, and no amount of pushing them down seems to contain them. MJ wonders if she will ever truly get over him, and a part of her doubts it. But for now, she takes a deep breath, his scent intoxicating her, and she promises herself that she will try to bottle it up again tomorrow, allowing herself to have this moment.

The romantic song ends before they can really start to dance, though, and it’s replaced by a completely different one. The first few seconds make it sound like any other power ballad, but it quickly transitions to a cheesy, 70’s disco song, and Peter and MJ burst in a fit of giggles, reluctantly letting go of each other.

Trying to shake off her disappointment, MJ shrugs and looks around, trying to find a way in the crowd to maneuver out of the dance floor, but when she looks back at Peter she nearly chokes.

He’s posing with his legs apart, hips angled and right arm pointing all the way up, as though he’s John Travolta in “ _Saturday Night Fever_ ”, clearly waiting for MJ to notice him.

A large snort escapes MJ, and she starts laughing again. Peter looks pleased at having caused that, and takes both of her hands in his and starts making ridiculous dance moves that MJ is happy to follow.

They both turn the dancing into an unspoken competition of who can do the funniest moves, and MJ is too competitive to let Peter win, so she does every choreography she can remember, and he looks quite impressed when she manages to do the MC Hammer move in heels and a long dress. Peter, in turn, starts doing the “Time Warp” dance from “ _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ ” and MJ has to brace herself on a nearby pillar not to fall over laughing.

MJ notices a few people frowning at them, and some even step back disapprovingly, but it’s all background noise to what’s happening. As Peter spins around in front of her, lip synching to the song’s wacky lyrics, all she can see and care about is the two of them, and how free she feels whenever she’s with him.

Once they’re out of breath from the dancing and all the laughing and another song comes on, they both walk outside again to get some air.

Despite being in the heart of the city, the patio is surrounded by trees and the only visible part of the city are the skyscrapers lining the horizon far away. The big oak doors close behind them as they step out and MJ feels almost as if she’s in her own world, the noise of the party and the city indiscernible from out here.

“So, did you get any good pictures?” MJ asks, sitting down on a bench.

She hears the noise of the camera shutter and looks towards Peter, who has just taken a photo of her looking serenely out into the city.

“Now I did.” Peter replies, walking towards MJ.

She stares at him a fraction longer, wondering if he’s being sarcastic, like he normally is. But something in his voice makes her feel like he isn’t, and her stomach does a pleasant twist, her cheeks heating up.

Peter sits besides her, letting out a deep breath. They both sit in comfortable silence for some time, and MJ feels extremely content. She knows that she should be back inside, listening to people’s conversations, taking notes on the auctions and who the most important people to show up are, but she doesn’t want to leave this moment any time soon.

“You look really-- really pretty tonight, Mary Jane.” Peter says, and MJ looks over to him fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

MJ quickly looks down too, not knowing what to do. She’s caught off guard by Peter’s compliment, and can’t help but smile.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” MJ asks, nudging her head to the garden and trees in front of them. Peter stands up, extending his hand as an answer. Still smiling, she grabs his hand and stands up as well.

“One second,” MJ says as she starts to take off her high heels, placing them underneath the bench. “Those were killing me.”

Peter laughs, and they walk down to the soft grass, towards the trees near a fountain.

“Not that we’d be able to see it with all the lights from the city, but Jupiter is visible in the sky right now,” he says, looking up.

MJ looks at Peter and instantly remembers the nights they’d use to spend on the rooftop when they were teenagers, Peter trying to teach her the constellations. She would never remember them, and he’d have to repeat himself all the time, taking her hand and guiding it across the stars to form their shape.

“Where would it be?” she asks, looking up at the sky, wondering if he remembers those nights too.

He points somewhere up by one side of the big full moon, and MJ looks at the wrong spot, squinting and frowning a little as if trying to see better.

“You were never good at seeing this stuff,” Peter laughs softly, and gets closer to her.

Using his index finger, he slowly guides MJ’s eyes to where the planet would be, and she swears she can see it faintly.

Peter puts his arm down, his hand softly brushing against hers, and MJ can feel his gaze on her. Turning her head away from the night sky, she finds herself only inches away from Peter, and his eyes travel from her piercing green ones to her lips.

Somewhere inside of her, she knows what’s about to happen, and it makes her whole body heat up and freeze at the same time. She’s felt the air grow heavy like this before, and felt other people’s warmth touching her skin leading up to it, but this is different, somehow. Time has never seemed to move as slow as thick honey the way it is now, and she’s never felt the hunger in the other person’s eyes mirror her own.

Peter is the first to move, getting even closer, and the slight tilt of his head is unmistakable. MJ knows she should follow his moves, just as she did in the ballroom only minutes ago; she _wants_ to more than she can recall wanting anything in her life. She’s envisioned this happening time and time again in her mind, and all she needs to do is lean into him to make it finally happen. 

But she can’t.

With Peter’s lips mere centimeters from hers, she looks down, which forces him to stand up straight again. The look on his face hurts MJ more than any super villain ever could.

“Peter…” She starts.

“No, I get it. I do.” He cuts her off, voice low. “I shouldn’t have.”

MJ wants to explain to him that, if it were up to her, if she let the selfish part of herself take control, she wouldn’t have stopped. That she’s not rejecting him. That she feels like she doesn’t deserve it, not after Gwen. She fears he only wanted it because he needs a stepping stone to get over his first love, and she can’t be that. She can’t, because he means more to her than he’ll ever know. But all she can manage is whimper from the lump forming in her throat, and she crosses her arms in front of herself, suddenly cold.

Peter is avoiding looking at her, eyes scanning over the grounds without really taking anything in, and he fumbles with his camera a little before speaking again.

“D’you wanna go back inside, or…? I can take you home, if you’d like.”

“Peter--” MJ tries to begin again.

“ _Really_ , Mary Jane, I rather pretend that this didn’t happen, okay?”

MJ sucks back in the breath, feeling absolutely horrible. Silence fills the entire garden until she speaks up again.

“Yeah, I should get back home. I can get a cab if you need to stay and take more pictures.” She says as they start to walk back to the patio. She grabs the heels that she slid under the bench earlier and puts them back on.

“It’s fine. Here.” Peter wraps his right arm around MJ’s waist, and she can see his web shooter under his suit’s sleeve.

MJ quickly laces her arms around his neck before they go flying high into the sky. She worries that somebody will seen them, but it’s dark out now, late enough for the streets to be emptier, and they’re so high there’s no way anybody could tell who they are.

They land on the ledge of Peter’s window within five minutes, and MJ lets go of him wordlessly, stepping into the bedroom and making her way further into the apartment. Before she reaches the hallway, MJ turns around.

“Are we okay?” she asks, worried. They’ve only just started talking again, and she really doesn’t want to go back to the awkwardness it was before.

“Of course we are,” Peter replies with a sad smile.

MJ was expecting some sort of half-hearted answer, or even a passive-aggressive silence, and so his earnestness catches her off guard. She nods her head and walks out into the corridor.

“Good night, Pete.”

“G’night, Mary Jane.”

* * *

“Miss Watson, am I boring you?”

MJ wakes up immediately at the brash words coming next to her. She shakes her head, looking up at her professor who has her arms crossed over her chest, followed by a few giggles by some of her classmates.

“Uhm--nope... Nope, I’m good.” MJ’s face goes red and she picks up her pen, pretending to scribble something in her notebook.

Late nights are all MJ has known for the last week. She has stayed up writing articles for the Bugle, and then getting up early the next morning just to rewrite them again. Not to mention with her university teachers already assigning mountains of homework despite classes barely being back, she feels like she hasn’t had a second to breathe.

The latest article she’s been working on is about the Bugle gala, and it’s proving to be a challenge. MJ has never had a problem piecing information together, but remembering important people’s names, what they were wearing and who they were talking to is a lot harder than she thought it would be. Especially if you spent half the night only really focusing on one particular person.

Once the class ends, she rushes out the door, not wanting to miss the bus home as she’s finally recalled the name of some not-really-known actress that was at the party as Jameson’s son’s date and wants to write it into the article immediately.

As the bus arrives and she gets on it, finding an empty seat to sit on, she repeats the information she’s remembered to herself. John Jameson, astronaut superstar and the son of infamous newspaper editor J. Jonah Jameson, was at the yearly Daily Bugle gala with a beautiful blonde in tow. Her name is Liz Allan, and she’s an aspiring actress.

MJ has it all memorized by the time the bus arrives at her stop, and she lets out a breath, relieved that it’s one more thing crossed off her currently huge to-do list.

Opening the door to the apartment, she drops her bag by the door, eager to get to her computer and finish the gala article. She turns it on and quickly types up the details she needs, and scans through the rest of it to make sure there are no typos and that everything makes sense.  

Shutting her laptop, MJ realizes the apartment is very quiet, and that means Peter isn’t home. He told her he’d go out patrolling, but that’s not until it gets dark, and they had planned on ordering a pizza tonight. She goes back into the living room to retrieve her cellphone from her backpack and sends him a text, asking if he’ll make it to dinner.

She’s been trying her hardest to keep things normal since their almost-kiss, feeling bad about having pushed Peter away. Deep down, she knows it was a good decision to make, but she still can’t get his look of dejection out of her head.

He’s been acting the same way as always, for the most part, so that’s some comfort, she tells herself.

* * *

MJ’s back in the garden that occupied herself and Peter during the Bugle gala a few weeks ago. It’s serene and beautiful, lights fogging up the edges of her vision that weren’t there before. She sees two people standing by the trees, and she recognizes them as Peter and herself, but MJ is watching that from a distance; she can see Peter in front of her as if she was some bystander, watching. They’re looking deeply into each other, their movements in sync. He moves his foot in, she moves hers; he tilts his head, she mirrors it. Just as their lips are about to meet, MJ willing it to come quicker, a loud, constant vibrating sound wakes MJ from her sleep.

When she opens her eyes she notices that it’s still dark outside. She’s a little disoriented when she goes to go and pick up her phone from the nightstand.

“..Mmmyeah?” MJ answers.

“MJ. I’m glad I got you… It’s Harry. T-They have my dad. He’s in the hospital right now. Could you… I’m so sorry to do this to you so late but… Could you come with me?”

MJ sits up straight immediately, with a cold shiver running down her spine. Not entirely awake yet and not exactly registering what she’s agreeing to, MJ says yes. For Harry.

It’s not until she squints her eyes in the night and looks at her phone to see that it’s 3:43 in the morning that she understands where her anxiety is coming from. She’s been living in denial for months, but she knows exactly who Mr. Osborn is, and what he’s done. She remembers the terror she felt when he burst into her dorm room window and took Gwen away with him. She remembers the broken shell of a man her death made out of Peter. She remembers it all.

Taking one moment to rub her eyes awake, MJ slides out of bed and finds a pair of jeans on the floor. She hops on one foot as she tries to put them on, backwards at first, getting it right the second time. MJ grabs a jacket from her closet, quickly putting that on, takes her purse, and by the time she’s out of the apartment, Harry is there waiting in a towns car out front.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't get the comics reference in the last chapter, here it is: 
> 
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> [(Amazing Spider-Man #153, February 1976)](http://41.media.tumblr.com/e50161a77bd790239f6aeecf4d694203/tumblr_mq7g64noS91svvfjzo2_400.jpg)

MJ and Harry ride side by side in the car in complete silence. The softest ticking of the driver’s blinker every now and then is the only thing filling the heavy air. The streets are empty, and the light from the lampposts overflows into the sleeping city.

The hefty grey clouds above threaten to start pouring, a faint drizzle bringing the warning. MJ watches as the raindrops patter against the car window, as one connects with another stream, falling down faster. She wonders if she should say something to Harry, but what could possibly be appropriate at a time like this? It isn’t like she can reassure Harry that Mr. Osborn will be just fine, because she doesn’t know whether he will be or not, and the thought of him actually being well terrifies her to her very core. What if he is? What would that mean, then? Will he wake up and not remember anything that had happened, anything that he did? Or will he be okay enough to kill more innocent people? She can’t exactly admit that she wishes he’d never get better because, deranged and criminal as he is, Norman still is the only family Harry has.

Harry can’t stop bouncing his leg up and down anxiously, so MJ gently puts her hand on his knee, hoping she can convey that it’s meant to be a comforting gesture, and Harry stops. His sad eyes lock onto hers, and he gives an empty smile, putting his hand over MJ’s, squeezing it tight.

They pull up into the hospital, and the driver parks at the back to not cause a scene. Harry and MJ step out of the car, quickly entering the large building through the sliding back doors.

Not bothering to ask for information, or even introduce himself to the staff, Harry walks straight to the elevators, leaving nurses protesting behind for his driver to deal with. MJ looks back at them with half a mind to apologize, but decides to keep up her pace with Harry, and links her arm with his. He grips her hand tight as they go up the elevator into the private ICU area where Mr. Osborn supposedly is.

After Harry exchanges a few impatient, but hushed words with the nurse that’s taking care of his father, who initially stopped him from entering the room, he’s given the clearance to go see Norman. MJ is about to make a step to accompany Harry when the nurse comes up and lets her know only family can visit at this time.

“It’s alright, MJ.” Harry reassures her with a strained smile.

“I’ll be here whenever you’re done, okay?” MJ replies, relieved she won't have to face Mr. Osborn just yet.

She sits in a waiting area just outside and around the corner of the room, and it’s quiet enough to hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights above. MJ sits stiffly, both feet on the floor, back up straight. Now she’s the one who starts to nervously fidget with her fingers, wondering what this means for all of them now.

Suddenly, [the Spider-Man theme song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qM8DNi_RatE) blasts from MJ’s pocket, and she frantically slides her hand to retrieve her phone out while getting dirty looks from some of the nurses and patients' family members. She flicks the silent button and sees that Adrian is calling.

She bites her lip and gives an apologetic look at the remainder of the people glaring at her, getting up to excuse herself to a nearby vending machine.

“Adrian, I can’t really talk right now.” MJ whispers, getting a little mad at him for calling at 6 AM.

“Am I the best agent, or am I the best agent? Guess who has another modelling job!” MJ can tell from his voice that he has a smug look on his face, so content with himself he can't even be bothered to listen to what she said.

“Adrian, I--”

“ _GUESS_ wants you to model for them! _GUESS_!” He continues.

MJ pauses for a moment. _GUESS_ wants her and they’re one of the biggest clothing companies in the world. But she has no room in her brain to think about this right now.

“Adrian, I’m at the hospital.” MJ is still whispering.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Adrian halts, worried.

“I’m fine. Just a friend situation. I can’t talk right now. Can I call you next week?”

He’s quiet for a moment before answering, making MJ feel uneasy. 

“Yes. Just not later, because _GUESS_ doesn’t wait for anyone.” 

She rolls her eyes to herself. Not her first priority right now. 

“Yes. I’ll call you then. Bye.”

MJ hangs up before Adrian can say anything else, and she walks back to the waiting room.

Just when she does, Harry walks into it as well, but he looks paler than usual. MJ immediately freezes up, again at a loss for words. Harry walks over to her, sitting down and not saying anything for a few minutes, and MJ sits next to him.

When he does speak up, his voice is hollow.

“H-He’s in a coma. The doctor said he doesn’t know if he’ll ever wake up.”

MJ squeezes Harry’s hand.

“Apparently the formula that turned him into that… _thing_ … caused some sort of virus,” Harry spits out the word as if it’s dirty. He continues, his voice nearly a whisper this time, speaking very fast. “And it’s spreading all over his body, and since the doctors don’t know what was in the formula, because it was my dad’s creation, there’s not much they can do to reverse it. 

MJ sits there, not knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything she can say to relieve the situation.

“They’re saying that, seeing as there’s nothing else for them to try, we get to bring him home. So we can just… Wait.”

MJ bites the insides of her cheeks and stares at Harry with a pained expression. A little because her friend hurting makes her hurt, but mostly because she feels guilty that she’s almost happy about the news.

Harry and MJ sit in the waiting room of the hospital for another hour after that. None of them say anything; MJ just rests her head on Harry’s shoulder, and they hold each other’s hand.

MJ’s nearly asleep when Harry breaks the silence again, voice soft and sounding as young as he actually is this time.

“I hate to ask so much of you, MJ, but you’re the only one who knows the entire situation and, well… You’re my best friend.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Will you help me take him home? I’ll get my assistance to actually do the work, getting all the best medical equipment we can buy. I just-- I need you there with me, if that’s alright.”

MJ pauses for a slight moment, feeling a shiver down her spine again at the thought of being back at the Osborn mansion in the presence of that vile man. But she couldn’t possibly leave Harry like this.

“Of course. I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be.”

* * *

It’s mid morning by the time they get to the Osborn manor, Harry having spent most of it on the phone making the necessary arrangements so Norman will be as well taken care of as possible. It gave MJ the time to do some of her homework on a laptop that Harry had gotten someone bring for her, though concentrating on it in the middle of this felt impossible.

Now that they’re home, there are several people coming and going around the house, rushing to prepare the master bedroom accordingly, and strange-looking machines are being wheeled into the room.

Norman is brought home by the Osborn’s personal helicopter, since it’s safer for someone in his condition, and taking advantage of the mansion’s helipad. It wasn’t uncommon for him to take his private aircraft instead of a car when there were Oscorp duties in nearby regions. 

It all looks awfully like a secret government operation, with employees working on a need-to-know-only basis, and all of them have to sign a confidentiality contract that threatens severe legal action should any information about what’s happening leak to the press. The only one that doesn’t have to sign one is MJ, after much arguing between Harry and one of his assistants.

Deciding she doesn’t want to bother anybody, MJ keeps to herself during the commotion, sitting on a large sofa in one of the living rooms. She watches all of the employees rushing in and out with gadgets and, after a while, things start to die down. Not even Harry is around, and MJ’s left there with her thoughts. Unfortunately, not very nice ones. 

The image that MJ normally forces to put in back in her mind starts to bubble up. Despite trying with every fiber of her being to not be a hateful person, she wishes that Norman Osborn would just hurry up and die.

She wonders to herself if wishing death on someone who’s caused so much of it himself makes her a bad person; if it makes her heartless and reprimandable. It’s nothing she’s ever wished upon anybody else before, not even towards her good-for-nothing father. It scares her that this springs to her mind so easily when it comes to Norman. 

Luckily, MJ is pulled from her dark thoughts when her phone buzzes with a text message. 

_Hey Red,_

_Where are you?_

_Pete_

MJ’s stomach starts to knot. _Just hanging out with the dude who killed your first girlfriend_ , she thinks to herself. Not even really paying attention to what she’s actually typing, she hits send.

_Just with Harry. His dad’s back. We’re good. I’ll keep you updated._

_MJ_

As she looks up from the screen, she sees that a couple of nurses start to wheel Mr. Osborn, who’s laying on a gurney, across the room and into the bedroom. Once her eyes meet the man, it’s almost like everything goes in slow motion, and MJ can’t help but stare at him. He looks deathly. His flesh has a green pigment to it, with sores covering his face. One of his hands is resting on his chest under the sheet, but the other hangs limply out of the fabric on the edge of the cot. MJ swears she can see Norman’s nails as long and sharp as animal claws.

Looking away in a mixture of fear and disgust, she is suddenly hit by a wave of fire-hot anger. As the man disappears from view, she realizes where she is, sitting around like an idiot waiting to see if the person who killed her best friend will be okay. It makes her wish he was dead even more.

* * *

MJ feels a wave of fatigue hit her, having been up most of the night. She walks to one of the many guest bedrooms in the mansion, needing to be as far away from Norman as possible. Entering one of the rooms, MJ sits on the bed and looks around the expensively furnished space, trying to focus on something other than her thoughts. Taking out her phone, she texts Peter to bring her some overnight stuff if he decides to swing by later.

There’s a light tapping on the door and MJ goes to answer it. 

“I’m sorry I left for a bit, I had to get the stupid doctor on the phone and-- It’s just… Such a huge mess. I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles before her.

“It’s alright,” MJ replies, opening the door fully to let him into the room. “How are you holding up?”

Harry sits down on the bed and rubs his eyes tiredly, shoulders slumped as though a heavy weight sits on top of them. 

“I’m okay, I guess,” he starts, but then sighs loudly. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’m glad he’s home and that I can keep an eye on him, but you heard what the doctors said.”

MJ sits down next to him, trying to imagine what he must be going through; she’s been so caught up in her own feelings about this situation that she never really factored Harry in. He knows what his father has done, he was there when it happened, he saw the mess that it made out of everyone’s lives, and he was friends with Gwen, too. What do you do when the only family you have is responsible for such destruction? In the last few hours MJ has found herself wishing Norman would have never come back, but would she be able to be that cold about it if it had been her own father?

As if he can read her mind, Harry starts talking again.

“How am I supposed to feel, MJ?” he nearly pleads. “He’s my _dad_. He may not have been the best or most present one, but I have no one else. No one! And he was sick from his formula, he didn’t know what he was doing! Am I supposed to just leave him out of the street do die like an animal?”

MJ winces at the pain she hears in her friend’s voice.

“You’ve got me and Pete.” MJ says quietly, but it doesn’t really reach him. Placing her hand on his back, MJ rubs soothingly, and that’s when he breaks down. 

“God, I can’t even look Peter in the eye after what my father’s done,” he whimpers, voice cracking with the struggle to hold back a sob. “H-he loved her so much… And he trusted me and I let him suffer so much…”

Harry starts crying fully now, and MJ takes him in her arms, trying to comfort him and reassure him that he isn’t responsible for the atrocities Norman has done. She feels as though she’s trying to convince herself of it, too.

Neither of them know how much time has passed when one of the Osborn’s butlers knocks on the guestroom door, but Harry is significantly calmer and pulls himself together quickly before going to the door. MJ can tell it’s not the first time he’s had to pretend things are fine, and it tugs at her heart to see how talented he is at it.

“Excuse me, sir, but there is a mister Peter Parker at the door. I told him no guests are to be accepted for the foreseeable future but I’m afraid he’s very insistent. He, uhm-- He called me… _poopypants_.”

* * *

Opening the front door himself, Harry is greeted by a large backpack right in his face before Peter turns around. 

“How you doing, Har?” Peter immediately walks towards him with his arms stretched open and they hug each other tight.

“Things have been a little crazy, but I’m alright,” Harry replies convincingly.

“I just stopped by to leave Mary Jane some stuff since she’ll be staying a while, I hope you don’t mind me coming here,” Peter explains, handing a rucksack over to MJ, who came to the door when she recognized his voice.

“Of course I don’t mind, Pete, you’re as good as family. Come inside, we’ll get something to eat.”

The three of them spend the rest of the day together, Peter and MJ walking on eggshells not to say the wrong thing to Harry, but it’s enjoyable nonetheless. They eat a little, though no one seems to be too hungry. They watch some TV, and everyone seems to ignore the subject of Harry’s father completely until a nurse or doctor interrupts to ask a question or another, which makes Harry walk out of the room for a few seconds. It leaves Peter and MJ uncomfortably staring at the ceiling until he comes back.

In one of the instances Harry’s attention is required, he leaves the room for longer, and it gives Peter and MJ some time to talk. 

“I was patrolling around SoHo earlier today and saw another one of your billboards.” Peter says as he looks at MJ. “That’s gotta be, what, the third one now?”

“Pete.”

“No, I’m proud of you, Mary Jane. I know I was an ass about it before but you’re really starting to make a name for yourself and I just… I don’t want you to forget how much you have to offer.” 

MJ can feel her face getting flushed, blindsided as to where the compliment came from. It reminds her that she needs to call Adrian soon if she wants her career to keep improving, but she doesn’t want to think about that right now. 

“So I take it from you gawking over my fabulous photos there’s no super mutant villains lately?” MJ deflects, still not comfortable with receiving praise, and especially such personal ones from Peter.

“Yeah, streets are still pretty quiet for the most part. Just regular baddies, no super mutant ones.”

MJ’s mind goes to the worst, Norman popping up into her head like he’s been doing lately. She shuffles herself over so she’s sitting closer to Peter.

“I just want you to remember that, even if you think you have this huge responsibility on you, it’s not your job to save the entire world. I always want you to know your limits, okay? Don’t try to always be a hero.” MJ bites her lip. Peter still doesn’t know about Norman, and MJ can’t tell him. But she’s worried.

Peter gives a confused expression at the sudden change of topic, and MJ tries to drop it. 

“I just don't want to lose a perfectly good roommate and have to get one that has conversations with the furniture, alright, Tiger?” She punches him in the arm, hoping it can make the conversation sound casual, instead of her practically begging him not to get himself killed, and he gives a raised eyebrow and a laugh. 

They both put their attention back to the television, watching some sitcom with a bad laugh track. A few minutes pass before Peter speaks up.

“I’ve never told you this, but I knew about you long before that one night on the roof, ya know.” He’s looking down, avoiding MJ’s eyes. 

“Well, duh, we'd lived next to each other for a long time.” MJ laughs.

“No, I mean, more than just a neighbour. I remember watching you, being so mesmerized when you played Cinderella at that school play.”

MJ’s breath hitches for a moment.

“That was the first grade.” She whispers.

“Then once you started writing for the school paper, I’d read every article you did. I even went as far as trying to do something that would get you to write about. It never really worked, though.” He gives a faint laugh, still looking down at his lap.

“Peter, we didn’t even know each other back then. Why did you do that? Why are you telling me this now?” MJ feels like she just walked into the middle of a conversation that she wasn’t a part of. Peter has never been one to bring out things from the past like this, and she knows he’s trying to make a point about something, but they’re interrupted before Peter can even react to her questions.

“Sorry guys, apparently word got out that my dad’s back, and the press are outside and everything’s just a fucking mess.” Harry spits as he rounds the corner back to the living room.

He sits right between MJ and Peter, dismissing any chance of knowing what Peter was going to say.

“Should we do something? Do you want us to leave, or?” Peter asks, trying to be helpful.

“No, there’s no way you can get past them,” Harry replies, and Peter and MJ exchange a look, knowing full well that, if he wanted to, he could swing his way home over the reporters’ heads and no one would be the wiser. 

The three of them stay inside until late at night, trying to avoid the camera flashes coming in through the windows and being careful not to switch over to any news channels on the TV, since they all seem to have a live broadcast of Harry’s front door.

At around midnight, the fuss outside starts to calm down and Harry manages to get a driver to take Peter home discretely, with the promise that he’ll check up on them daily.

* * *

MJ spends a few days at the Osborn mansion, working on articles and school assignments from her laptop in the guest bedroom despite being distracted by everything going on in her mind, from Norman to Peter. But Harry has somebody retrieve her homework from school and a private teacher to catch her up on what she missed, and she tries hard to stay concentrated for his sake.

After the way Harry broke down on the first day, she doesn’t want to leave him alone; she knows too well what being alone with a sick parent can do to a person’s brain.

She tries to help as much as she can, but with the amount of butlers and maids around 24/7, it turns out she doesn’t have much to do. Even when she tries to make her own bed after waking up she’s interrupted and told that it will be taken care of, and that she should head downstairs for breakfast.

Harry mostly keeps to himself when he’s not in his office working from home or talking to doctors and specialists, and MJ keeps her distance during the day, but in the evenings she tries her best to distract him a little. She’ll ask him if he wants to watch a movie, and has the popcorn ready and the DVD playing before he has a chance to say no. He always falls asleep about twenty minutes into the picture. MJ doesn’t wake him, covering him up with a blanket instead, knowing how tired he is and wanting him to get the rest that he denies needing when he’s awake.

A couple of nights after Peter stopped by, MJ sees a breaking news report that interrupts every channel on TV as she was watching it in Harry’s big lounge room. Spider-Man is seen downtown chasing an armoured beast who’s destroying everything in sight; flipping cars upside down and sending glass shards from the windows flying around. The streets have been a lot more calm since Norman’s disappearance, and it nearly made MJ forget how worried and stressed Peter fighting those monsters makes her feel, and all the emotions come rushing back to her. It’s not a feeling she missed whatsoever.

MJ sits on the edge of her seat, clutching the remote tightly in her hands, every muscle in her body tensed up. Her eyes keep following Spider-Man’s every move, and she winces whenever he nearly misses a building or a piece of rubble thrown by the mechanical creature. The thought of never knowing what Peter wanted to tell her crosses her mind, but she quickly shakes it out as fast as it came, feeling bad at making this about herself when he’s the one risking his neck out there.

“Get ‘em, Tiger…” She whispers under her breath, brow furrowed.

Watching Peter in these types of situations always made MJ’s stomach sink to the point she felt she would be sick. But now that, after years of denial, she has finally started to admit to herself that she has feelings for him that just won’t go away, it’s nearly unbearable. She would give anything to have Peter sitting here beside her, safe.

The transmission continues with the reporter on site giving more details on the situation as they try to get closer to the fight. The villain apparently calls himself the Scorpion, as his armoured suit has a tail of sorts resembling one. He’s supposedly demanding money as someone never paid him. MJ wonders if this has anything to do with Norman and her stomach churns even more. 

The filming crew gets close enough to capture what is being said, and among the usual villany rants about how Spider-Man is no match for him, Peter can also be heard making quips and sarcastic puns. Now that MJ is watching it from the outside, she realizes why he does it. She’s always figured it was his way of deflecting his fear and getting a rise out of whoever he’s fighting that day, but it’s clear now that he does it to draw as much attention to himself as possible, so the villains will focus solely on _him_ , and the civilians around can get to safety.

Looking away for one second, she quickly reaches for her cell phone and types up a text to Peter, asking him to check in when he can so she knows he’s okay. MJ puts her phone down after making sure the ringer volume is at max, not wanting to accidentally miss a reply, and pays attention to the TV again. She unconsciously looks around the fight scene to make sure there is no one in danger, but then a sound chills her to the bone. It’s a woman screaming. 

The Scorpion has grabbed a young woman with its tail and is threatening to hurt her unless Spider-Man gives him what he wants. MJ stands up abruptly, needing to get away from the television and the fight scene, feeling short of breath.

The scream on TV sounded very similar to Gwen's voice, and MJ can sense a panic attack start to bubble up inside of her, the images from the night she died appearing in her head in flashes.

She heads for the kitchen to get a glass of water in an attempt to calm down, but as she's walking there, she sees herself surrounded by pictures and pompous paintings of Norman Osborn on the walls of the mansion. An even sicker feeling that she’s never had before overwhelms her, appearing like a revelation in her mind: she wants to look down at this man. She wants to see his monstrous face. The face that took Gwen away. She wants to see him rot away in that bed, hanging on to life by a thread in agony, trapped inside torturous dreams but never be able to wake up.

A few minutes go by where she tries to convince herself not to do it, that it’ll just hurt, but before she knows it, she’s striding towards the bedroom that Norman Osborn occupies. As she stands in front of the door, it feels like her lungs chill with ice. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself somewhat, she lightly pushes on the door to open it just enough for her to go in.

She can’t see anyone inside but him. The curtains are open and the moon shines down brightly on his ailing face, and the light has the opposite effect than it does on healthy people; instead of looking flushed and alive, it only makes him look more appalling. Before entering the cold room, she looks once to her left, and once to her right, to make sure that no one is near. 

She shuffles on through the entrance, gently closing the door behind her. It’s eerie in here. Everything is too white and too pure, too clean-smelling and clinical, contrasting harshly against the man before her. MJ crosses her arms over her chest, her arm hairs standing upright, fingernails digging into her palms. With every step she takes closer to him, the more petrified she becomes. When she makes her way to the side of the bed and looks down at him, the flashback of him crashing through her window and grabbing Gwen engulfs her, the searing pain of the memory undoing her.

Wanting to scream, MJ clenches her teeth instead, willing herself not to topple over despite her weakened knees. She bites down on the sides of her cheeks so hard that they start to bleed, and her stomach turns with regret at having thought she could stand to face this monster.

She can’t bear looking at his face a moment longer, so she turns her head to the side to see a bedside table. Looking into one of the drawers that is slightly ajar, she catches a faint image of familiar fiery red hair in a photograph.

MJ furrows her brow a little and gently reaches for the drawer to fully open it, too curious to help herself. Taking the glossy photos into her hands, she feels them cold against her fingertips, but not as cold as her entire body gets once she sees the content of the pictures.

They’re of her. Walking to the bus stop, heading to the store, to the Bugle, at school. She keeps flipping through them and has to try to suppress screaming at the top of her lungs when she sees the last one. It’s of her and Peter flying in the sky after the Bugle gala.

“ _Emm… Jay…_ ”

The sound makes MJ’s heart nearly stop beating, making her drop all of the photographs onto the floor. She stands with her back facing him, frozen in place, wishing the noise hadn’t been so clear that she could blame it on the whirring of the life-support machines in the room. _Breathe, MJ… Breathe_.

Slowly turning around, she sees his devilish yellow-green eyes locked on her, like a snake’s to its prey just before the attack. Hate and horror fill her very core, and her body feels as though it’s given up the will to fight, feeling weightless and frail under his gaze.

Norman spatters and coughs roughly, his hands trembling with the effort, and his voice rasps when he speaks again.

“I know… everything... I will... _kill_ … Peter Parker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	19. Chapter 19

_No._

Without a second glance at the, what she thought was a dying man. MJ bolts out of Norman’s bedroom as fast as her legs can move her. She sprints to the living room first to grab her handbag, then goes straight for the elevator. Quickly tapping Harry’s name from her contacts on her phone, she frantically raises it to her ear and gets his voice mail.

“Harry, it’s MJ. I… I had to go. Something came up. Call me.”

She hangs up the phone and calls Peter immediately after, her hands shaking. Voice mail.

“Damn it, Peter. _Pick up!”_

She ends the call and tries again. Nothing. A third time. Still nothing. A familiar feeling starts to creep up on MJ, the exact same panic threatening to eat at her like the night Gwen died.

Without even realizing what she’s doing or where she’s going, she sprints from the elevator, out into the main floor, making her way to the busy streets. Her lungs are burning with the effort, the honks of cars she’s nearly missing ringing in her ears.

When she looks up and stops to catch her breath for the first time since leaving the Osborns’, she finds herself in front of her, Harry and Peter’s apartment building.

Quickly walking up the stairs, MJ reaches inside her bag for her keys and desperately opens the door, eyes scanning around the room for a sign of Peter.

Once she steps inside, she hears a laugh coming from one of the rooms and fear spreads through her bones. Without thinking twice, she makes her way to the bedrooms, wanting to check Peter’s first.

The closer she gets, the louder the laughing becomes, and MJ feels like she’s is about to pass out. Slowly opening the door that was already mostly ajar, she braces herself for the worst.

“What the fuck!” MJ exclaims.

She’s in the doorway of the bedroom, facing Peter’s back while he guffaws at a video playing on his laptop, his massive headphones preventing him from hearing what MJ said.

She strides to the desk he’s sitting at and forcefully shuts the computer, finally making Peter notice her presence, a bit startled.

“Oh, hey, Red. What’s up?” He greets cheerfully.

“ _What’s up_?! Why didn’t you answer your goddamn phone, Peter Parker?” MJ demands, now furious at him. “I’ve been calling you like crazy!”

Peter gets up from his desk chair and walks around the room looking for his phone, and finds it in his backpack.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he says, after seeing three missed calls from MJ. “I totally spaced out, I was watching some stuff and winding down after…”

“Well, just keep your phone _with_ you, is that so hard?” MJ snaps, “I mean, I carry this stupid thing around at all times for _you_!” She shakes the panic button in front of his face, and that seems to make Peter stop and look at her properly for the first time since she came in.

“Mary Jane, is everything okay?” Peter asks, eyes going over her messy, wind-blown hair and the way she still seems out of breath, even though she has stopped running several minutes ago.

Hearing his question and the concerned way he’s looking at her makes MJ want to tell him everything. Who Norman really is, how and why he’s become such a monster, and what he told her tonight. The words are practically forming themselves in her mouth, and a huge part of MJ wants to let them out, to warn Peter of the true danger he faces if Norman ever manages to get up from that bed.

But then the image of Harry crying in her arms floods her mind and turns the confession words to ash on her tongue, and MJ can feel unpleasant knots forming in her stomach when she answers.

“Everything’s fine. I just freaked out when you didn’t answer, that’s all. I need you to check in after you battle a weird mechanical bug.”       

He looks at her up and down again with a worried expression, making sure that she’s okay.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Mary Jane?” Peter puts his hand on her arm, clearly not buying that that’s all she is worried about.

MJ knows he can see right through her lie; he always could. She has spent most of her life lying to people, never wanting them to know about her vulnerabilities and insecurities, and she considered herself a pro at it until Peter showed up. But she also knows he won’t force her to say anything she doesn’t want to.

“It’s nothing, Pete. Just keep your phone with you.” She tells him, trying to convince herself too as she walks out of his room.

MJ feels completely and utterly alone. She can’t tell Peter about what happened, for Harry’s sake, and she’s not sure if she can tell Harry either, as he’s so set on his father being okay again, spending every waking hour and all the resources he can to make it happen. It’s all too much for MJ to handle, and she doesn’t know for how much longer she’ll be able to hold it all in.

 

* * *

MJ can’t tell where she is. Everything is dark around her except from a faint light coming from  few yards away, and she’s cold. She forces her eyes to adjust to the darkness and walks towards the better-lit area, and that’s when she sees a familiar blue and red pattern rush past her; she calls out his name, following him.

Once in the light, Peter’s steps falter and he falls down limply on the floor. Rushing closer, MJ sees Peter’s body lying mangled on the concrete, his Spider-Man suit in scraps. She stands over him, checking for the rise and fall of breaths on his chest, but there are none.

Bending down to touch his face, her hand recoils in shock at the deathly chill on his skin. A blinding green flash of light explodes from behind her, and MJ can hear the echoing of the Goblin’s laugh ringing in her head. A dark, crimson pool starts to surround Peter, and MJ screams at the top of her lungs.

“It’s okay, Mary Jane. It’s okay. Shhhh…” She hears Peter’s voice in her ear.

Opening her eyes, she notices she’s in her bed. She looks over to Peter sitting right beside her on the mattress, his arms wrapped around her and hands moving up and down her back, comforting her.

“Peter, you’re here!” MJ doesn’t even have time to feel embarrassed about the desperation in her voice, too relieved to care.

“Of course I am. I’m here.”

Once she’s calmed down enough, the realization of what’s happening hits her, so she slides away from Peter’s grasp and sits upright.

Peter pulls his arms back quickly into his lap, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, I just-- Bad nightmare.”

“It’s okay, I get them too, sometimes.” He reassures her. “Want to watch a movie?” Peter asks gently. MJ’s heart beats a little faster at how understanding and supportive he always is with her.

She rubs her eyes before agreeing, and they both walk silently to the living room. Peter puts on Jurassic Park, one of their go-tos, and they sit next to each other on the sofa. Before she knows it, though, MJ is fast asleep again on Peter’s shoulder.

* * *

MJ has decided not to go back to the Osborn mansion after what happened with Norman. She feels bad for bailing on Harry, so she checks up on him as much as she can, to reassure that she’s still there for him and that he can count on her.  

For the most part, Harry has been sounding the same, still tired but determined to find a way for his dad to be well again. MJ is almost afraid to ask if there’s been any progress in the couple of days since she left, but so far the doctors and specialists still agree that the damage Mr. Osborn made to his body is irreparable.

While she’s checking up on Harry, she also makes sure to alway know exactly where Peter is. It puts her more at ease, but she knows the constant texting gives him a red flag that something is up.

He doesn’t say anything until MJ requests Peter text her every hour when he’s out patrolling, and then he finally asks what’s going on.

“I just have a bad feeling, Peter.” MJ says one morning as she’s putting on her boots.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Mary Jane. Look, you don’t have tell me, but I can’t pay attention to the clock, to my phone, and the streets at the same time when I’m out there.”

“It’s not too much to ask, Peter. Just do it!” MJ raises her voice a little as she walks out of the apartment, closing the door behind her before he can retort.

Placing her raincoat’s hood over her head to avoid the faint drizzle, MJ walks to the bus stop with her hands in her pockets. She’s meeting Adrian at IMG today to discuss an upcoming shoot she has with GUESS for their newest collection, and even though it’s the last thing on her mind, she doesn’t want to let Adrian down, since he has been there for her since the beginning of her modelling career.

The bus ride is longer, and MJ can’t help but notice every time she steps outside, she’s continuously looking to the sky or over her shoulder, dreading to see a whurr of green metal.

Telling herself she’s being too paranoid and getting mad at herself for letting this man consume her thoughts, she steps off of the bus when it gets to her stop, and walks the remainder of the way to IMG. She takes a deep breath and puts on her brave, everything-is fine face before going into the building.

As she enters the lobby, Martha the receptionist gives a warm smile, MJ returning it as she walks to Adrian’s office. He had texted her earlier to just come straight in, and Martha must’ve gotten the memo.

“Good morning, Martha.” MJ says as she walks past her.

“Good morning, MJ!”

When she enters Adrian’s office, he’s on the phone and acknowledges her by giving a smile and lifts his index finger as if to say, “just one second”. She sits patiently in one of the chairs in the sleek looking room.

She stares at her phone’s screen, which is displaying Peter’s text messages to her. The “Replied 67 minutes ago” label below Peter’s last message almost taunting her. MJ glares at the device, but as if her unimpressed feelings somehow seeped through the phone, she receives a text from him.

_Still fine, you bonehead._

_Pete_

Relief spreads throughout her and she rolls her eyes to herself, feeling lighter than when she came in, knowing that at least for the next hour she’ll be able to concentrate on her work and not on what’s going on outside. Even if deciding outfits or posing for a photographer seems absurd with everything else happening in her life.

“MJ!” Adrian finally says after hanging up the phone. She takes her eyes off the screen and looks at him.

“Hey.”

“I was just on the phone with the art director for the new campaign and everything is looking amazing,” he starts, going straight into business mode.

MJ keeps quiet, making Adrian speak up again cautiously.

“You do want to sign on with GUESS, right? They’re one of the biggest--”

“I know,” MJ interrupts,  “I’m interested, sorry. A lot is going on.”

“Oh, good, because I think this could really propel your career even further,” Adrian replies, before quickly adding “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

MJ appreciates the question, and wishes she had someone she could tell all of her crazy, superhuman problems to without being careful to withhold information so no one gets in trouble. Instead, she just does what she knows best.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. So what’s the course of action now with GUESS?”

The two of them go through the usual discussion of dates to shoot, who will be involved, what the ads will be about and how much promotion MJ will have to do, and she nearly forgets about Peter out patrolling until she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket, with another message checking in.

“MJ? Shall we continue?” Adrian snaps her out of her stupor, realizing she was smiling at her phone. He seems a little irritated because of that.

“Sorry, yeah.” MJ sheepishly slides her phone back into her pocket.

“We’re nearly done, anyway. I just need to make those calls and then I will phone you once we have some dates.” He’s definitely shrugging her off now, but MJ doesn’t have time for more drama.

“Alright, so I’ll see you soon?” MJ asks, pretending not to notice.

“Certainly.”

Once back at the apartment, MJ decides to straighten things up a little to keep herself busy (and to not check her phone every five seconds) until Peter gets back. Cleaning has always been an escape for her when she was stressed.

She starts with the kitchen, which is usually fairly clean since neither of them cook much, living off of takeout or microwaveable food. There are a couple of dishes that need washing, and instead of putting them in the dishwasher, she decides to do them herself, laughing when she grabs Peter’s Sonic the Hedgehog cereal bowl that still has remains of the Lucky Charms he ate this morning.

Moving over to the huge fridge next, MJ sighs, wondering if this was a bad idea. There are half a dozen Chinese food containers, three pizza boxes stacked on top of each other,  family-sized peanut butter tub (“ _Who keeps peanut butter in the fridge_?!” MJ thinks to herself, slightly horrified), and a couple shelves of more suspicious-looking things she’s afraid to look into.

She gathers enough courage to take things out one at a time and sets them on the counter to sort through better.

MJ hears the familiar sound of Peter entering through his bedroom window and smiles to herself, relieved her worrying is over for today.

Peter calls out for her, and she hears his feet making their way to the kitchen, looking for her.

“Oh, my God,” he says as he walks in. “I don’t think I like your new perfume, Red.”

“Shut up,” MJ laughs, looking at Peter from behind  pile of tupperware. “Someone had to clean the fridge at some point, I think we’ve never thrown anything out since we moved in.”

“I’m pretty sure that smell is all the Greek food you order… Like, way too much Greek food. Do you eat anything other than Greek food?” Peter asks as he pinches his nose.

“Are you gonna help me or not?!” MJ throws a very stale and very hard pizza crust at him, but he dodges it.

“I think I’ve got to do some more patrolling.” Peter gives a devilish grin.

“Peter Parker, you better help me now or else.”

“Alright, alright, but when I signed up to be this watchful eye over the city, I never thought I’d also be battling moldy food.”

They start going through the containers MJ separated, cataloguing the restaurants with the good food and the ones they might call health department on, and Peter has to bribe MJ with a free dinner so she will quit saying that there’s is plenty of food they can still salvage out of this. Once she opens a pot of something smelling so bad she thinks she might pass out, she agrees. But not before punching Peter in the arm for laughing at her gagging.

It takes them about an hour to clean everything up, and they’re both exhausted by the end of it, deciding to leave the dirty containers to soak in the sink and be dealt with later. Sitting on the couch in the living room, Peter turns to MJ.

“Want some takeout?” he asks, and they burst out laughing until their eyes water, too grossed out from touching the rotten food to even _think_ about eating any time soon.

* * *

MJ walks home from the bus stop, having just handed her latest article in to the Bugle. She’s a little stressed out at Mr. Jameson, who was even harder to deal with than usual, yelling at everyone for apparently ruining the newspaper as well as his reputation for no clear reason, and she’s met with an empty apartment.

Taking her phone out of her back pocket for the first time since she was at the Bugle, she notices she has 3 texts and curses herself for forgetting to check it in the middle of the confusion at the office.

The first one is from Harry, and when she reads it, her stomach sinks.

_MJ,_

_My dad seems to be getting better. I have no clue how this happened… He wants to have my friends over for dinner._

_Harry_

Taking a deep breath, she wills herself not to freak out. For all she knows, Norman was hallucinating that night from too many drugs or side effects from the Goblin formula and has no recollection of what happened then, and it was all a big misunderstanding… Trying to convince herself that what he said the last time he saw him wasn’t real.  

She reads the second text, another one from Harry, and MJ nearly drops the device at what it says. That Peter is already there.

The last message is from Peter explaining that he’s at the Osborn manor and that she should meet them.

MJ braces herself on the kitchen counter and tries not to scream.

_Calm down, calm down._

Peter can handle himself; it’s not like MJ could actually do anything if she was there right now. But every second that goes by feels like hours to her, and she just needs to be right next to Peter, right now, to make sure that he’s okay. She’s going to the mansion.

If it had been a few years ago, MJ would’ve worried about what she’d wear, or what to say going to dinner at the Osborns, picking out clothes and rehearsing her poise in the mirror, desperately wanting to make a good impression. That couldn’t be further from who she is now.

Not bothering to even retrieve her handbag that she left by the door when she got home, MJ runs out of the apartment and into the street and makes it as far as a couple of blocks before she stops.

What is she going to do, just sprint to Harry’s family’s house and drag Peter away with no explanation? She would faint from exhaustion before arriving at the front door.

Turning around, she walks back to their apartment, trying to come up with a way to get Peter away from that place, and to her luck, she realizes she’s locked out, and her keys are inside.

Her mind is a mess lately, and she mentally kicks herself for being so absentminded. She pounds the front door with her foot, only managing to stub her toe, and she cries out in hurt and anger.

“ _Dammit_.” She whispers under her breath.

Luckily, she still has her phone in her back pocket, so she grabs it and looks at her contacts, not really sure who to call, but her fingers work faster than her brain lately.

“Hey, Red, are you coming?” Peter’s voice asks on the other end.

“I… Locked myself out of the apartment,” she feels kind of stupid, but forms an idea. “Can you come help?” _Brilliant! It’s not even a lie_ , she thinks to herself. Now he’ll be far away from Norman.

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll come grab you and bring you here.” Peter says.

“No, Peter just--” _Crap_. He hung up.

Slumping down on steps in front of the apartment, MJ tells herself enough is enough. She’s going to talk to Harry about telling Peter. She can’t handle all the secrecy and keeping Peter out of the loop anymore. This needs to end.

It’s not long before Peter arrives, and by then MJ has already figured out what to say to Harry to convince him to come clean, and she knows she’ll have to do it tonight.

As Peter rounds the corner, MJ gets up from the steps, immediately looking for signs that something bad happened, a bruise, a limp, or even a frown of worry or anger, but there is nothing. If anything, he seems to get happier as soon as he sees her.

“Think fast!” He says, as he throws his keys for MJ to catch.

MJ’s so preoccupied with her thoughts that she doesn’t even register what’s happening, and the keys hit her right in the face.

“JESUS! MARY JANE! I am so sorry! Shit, are you okay?!” Peter runs over to a red faced MJ rubbing her nose.

“Ow. How uncoordinated am I…” She says as she rubs her nose, making her voice sound funny, and Peter can’t help but laugh.

“So, do you want to go grab your keys and then I’ll swing us over?” He asks after MJ recovers (mostly from the embarrassment).

Though MJ is determined to talk to Harry so that Peter can finally know once and for all, she’s afraid what Peter may do once he knows. But after everything Norman has put him through, he deserves to know.

“Yeah, I’ll go grab them, be right back.”

* * *

They land in an alley near the mansion so that they can casually walk the rest of the way and not raise suspicions.

MJ is feeling a mixture of fear, worry, and about a million other things that make the bad kind of butterflies spring up in her stomach. She keeps discreetly looking to her side at Peter to reassure herself that at least he’s safe and unharmed next to her, and that gets her through the worst of it until they reach the gates.

Once they’re at the door, they’re greeted by the Osborns’ butler, and he promptly ushers them to come inside as dinner is ready to be served.

MJ had hoped she’d have time to talk to Harry before they all sat and ate with Norman, so she holds her breath as they enter the dining room, preparing for the worst.

The table looks like it was set up for a king and his court. The china looks luxurious, and the tablecloth and napkins are of the finest linen. There are candles burning across the dining table, resting on antique candle holders, and the silverware is made out of pure silver.

Neither Peter nor MJ know if they should sit down or wait until the hosts arrive, but before they can embarrass themselves asking one of the serves the question, Harry appears from the other room, pushing Norman in a wheelchair.

The difference between the man across from her and the one who was dying in his bed makes MJ catch her breath. Norman Osborn looks almost normal again, save for the loss of weight and grey-ish tint to his skin. He’s dressed in his finest clothes, an expensive dark green suit with a matching tie and trousers, and a black shirt.

Harry himself looks better than he has in ages, his hair slicked back and the bags under his eyes nearly gone now.

“Ah, I am so glad that you all are here!” Norman says, uncharacteristically chipper. “Let’s all sit down, I’ve had my staff prepare the most wonderful feast to celebrate my rise from the dead.” He laughs, but no one seems to find humour in the joke.

Harry wheels his father to the place at the head of the table and everyone takes their seats.

MJ notices Harry is in a tux as well, and Peter is in nice pants and a dress shirt. She didn’t have time, nor that she cared to change, so she sits down in an elegant chair in some regular skinny jeans and a band tee shirt.

“Now, tell me, what have I missed while I was gone?” Norman asks as the personal waiter starts to serve the starter dish. “Why isn’t your girlfriend here, Peter? The blonde one? I’ve always liked her.”

Everyone around the table seems to stop breathing all at once. Peter looks like he’s been punched in the stomach, MJ looks incredulous, and Harry chokes on his water, trying to discreetly get his father to change the subject.

Seeing his son’s attempt at getting his attention, Norman makes an “Oh!” face, and nods.

“I am sorry, Peter, I should have been more thoughtful,” he amends. “But I will tell you this, women are fickle beings, and one day Gwen-- isn’t that her name?-- will rue the day she left you.”

If MJ had a baseball bat, or any sort of superhuman strength, she would have jumped across the table and killed Norman herself. Instead, she just grinds her teeth, staring at the man.

Is this all an act he’s putting on? It seems impossible that he would forget everything that he’s done like that, but to bring it up in front of Peter so casually either means he doesn’t remember a thing, or really is a sociopath.

The dishes continue being served and Norman fills up the silence with comments on the food, steering away from anything personal involving his son or the two guests at his table, and MJ starts to get a bad feeling. It feels as though he’s watching everyone and just waiting for the right moment to say something else to hurt while he plays dumb.   

MJ hasn’t said one word during dinner, and Norman looks fully aware of that.

“MJ, I hear you’ve started to dabble into the modelling industry. Do you like being _photographed_?” Mr. Osborn asks, sliding a piece of extremely rare steak into his mouth.

Flashbacks of her finding a series of candid photographs of herself in Norman’s bedroom’s side table fill up her thoughts. She could have sworn she saw the faintest form of a smirk on his lips.

Looking over to Peter, she sees his brow furrow a little; he’s obviously off put about the question, being as intuitive as he is. When he looks to MJ, she quickly looks away, making him tense up at the situation entirely.

“Well, at least you can be assured that the recognition you’ve received is completely your own; you didn’t have to mooch off my son, you made that clear when you left him broken hearted.”

“ _Dad_!” Harry yells.

MJ stands up quickly from her chair, making is skid against the marble floors.

“Harry, can I speak to you? _Privately_.” MJ says through her teeth. She can’t bear this a second longer and she needs his permission to tell Peter everything.

“Oh, I struck a cord didn’t I? It truly wasn’t my intention, dear MJ.” Norman says almost genuinely, but MJ knows better.

She’s absolutely sick to her stomach. This man isn’t any different than the man who took her best friend, and no layer of pleasantries can hide the stench of his madness.

“Peter, you wait in the living room for us.” MJ looks at him, not wanting Norman alone keeping him company. She knows what she’s saying is stupid, and that a wall between them isn’t going to keep Peter safe, but she can at least try.

To MJ’s surprise, Peter obeys, getting up and leaves the room without a word; he’s clearly unimpressed with what Norman had to say to her as well.

MJ gives one more toxic glare towards Mr. Osborn and walks into the next room, Harry trailing right behind her.

“I’m sorry, MJ, I have no idea what came over him--”

“Yeah, well I do. Nothing has changed, Harry. Peter needs to know. _Now_.” MJ interrupts, and Harry takes a step back.

He closes his eyes before he responds, letting out a sharp breath.

“You know we can’t do that, MJ.” He responds, and anger starts to bubble up inside of her. She knows that Norman is his dad. but at what cost will Harry risk everything?

“And why can’t we do that, Harry? Do you not think that Peter _deserves_ to know the truth? Don’t you think leaving him in the dark like this is dangerous if anything were to happen agai--”

“It _won’t_ happen again, MJ.” Harry’s jaw clenches shut.

“What makes you so sure about that?! It already happened once, what’s stopping him from doing it over and over again?!” MJ’s voice starts to get a bit louder, and she hates it. It reminds her of her father and the drunken words he’d shout at her, trying to guilt her into doing his will. She never wanted to be that person, to scream to get her way, but Peter needs to know the truth if he has any chance of fighting it, and moving on for good.

Harry pauses, torn between not knowing and not believing if his father is capable of mass murder again, and MJ’s words that he has never had a reason to doubt in his life.

“Peter won’tunderstand. My father _killed_ his girlfriend! Do you really think that Peter would have it in his heart to forgive him? To forgive _ME_?!” Harry yells, and MJ’s heart clenches; he’s clearly terrified of losing his best friend. But before she can say anything, Peter walks into the room, looking alarmed.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, turning to Harry. He’s obviously heard him snap, and Peter subconsciously shields his body in front of MJ’s.

Harry looks embarrassed, and tries to straighten up, mumbling that things are fine. Peter then looks at MJ as if searching for confirmation, and she takes a deep breath before her lips betray her.

“Peter, I need to tell you something.” She bites her lip immediately when she says it, as if to stop the words from coming out.

“MJ, NO.” Harry yells and takes a step towards her, but Peter steps in between the two before his foot even touches the floor.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Peter asks, completely bewildered.

Harry’s eyes meet MJ’s that are just behind Peter’s shoulder. They’re desperate, and she has no clue what to do, the tension in the room stifling and overflowing and she’s nearly suffocating.

She’s moving. She doesn’t know where she’s going. Her legs are just walking on their own and she’s leaving the room despite Harry and Peter calling out to her. She will not-- She cannot be here a second longer. The butler opens the front doors for her as she comes speed-walking down the staircase and in a second she is out of the Osborn Manor. The streets are dark and MJ continues to walk despite herself down the secluded road. It’s a long ways back to the apartment, and she would think it crazy for someone to be out alone this time of night if you’d asked her thirty minutes ago, but she just… Keeps walking.

A few more minutes go by where all she registers is the feel of her feet on the asphalt, but then, in the quiet of the night there’s a familiar “thwip” sound in the air, and she doesn’t have to look back when she hears another set of feet landing on the floor to know Peter has been following her.

“Mary Jane, what’s happening? Please let me in…” He pleads.

MJ stops when she hears his voice, her throat tightening up, and she knows she can’t hold onto all of it for much longer. She turns around, her face crumpled in the dark, and Peter is inches away from her before the first sob can come out. She buries her face into his neck and starts to cry.

Peter’s arms instantly wrap around her protectively, one hand on the small of her back, the other cradling the back of her head, and MJ can hear him whisper words of comfort into her ear.

They stand on the street for a while in that position, and MJ tries to calm herself down enough to tell everything to Peter, but she starts crying all over again when she thinks that, the second she lets Peter know what’s happening, her friendship with Harry is over. Despite it being unquestionably necessary, he’ll see it as a betrayal, and if there’s one thing the Osborn men don’t forgive, it’s treason. And what if Peter hates her for keeping it from him for so long? The thought of Harry out of her life is bad enough, but Peter out of her life? That’s unbearable. There are so many factors in this secret, and there’s no clear answer on what to do.

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” Peter says softly, taking MJ by the waist and looking over his shoulder to make sure no one is around before swinging them both into the night.

They arrive home only a handful of minutes later, MJ’s head somewhat cleared because of the swinging, which always seems to have a calming effect on her.

She stands in Peter’s room, where they came in from, and is acutely aware of his eyes on her. When she doesn’t turn to him after a while, Peter speaks up.

“Listen, I have to do some patrolling now, but do you think we can talk later?”

The earnestness in his voice would be comforting on any other day, but it feels bittersweet now; MJ has been lying to him and she’s still not sure if she’ll tell him everything that she knows. But she just nods, finally looking at him.

She steps out of the room so Peter can change into his suit, but before she does, she catches a glimpse of his bedside table. The photo of her and Peter from the Bugle’s gala, the one with her kissing his cheek, is placed in a frame and sitting on the surface. As she exits the door her stomach turns and distorts, and she makes her decision to tell him, even if it means he and Harry will never talk to her again.

A second later she hears him climbing out the window, and she’s left alone with all of these thoughts.

MJ walks into the kitchen, hoping some tea will help her think so she can figure out exactly what she’s going to tell him, and how.

“Peter, you know your dead girlfriend? Well, that was your best friend’s father who killed her. I knew the whole time, too…” She mumbles to herself, then rolls her eyes.

Just as MJ fills the kettle up with water, she can hear shuffling of feet behind her, startling her a little as she turns around. Harry is there; she must’ve been so occupied with her thoughts that she didn’t hear him come in. She often forgets this apartment is his, and that he technically lives here too despite never really being here.

He looks out of breath and extremely frantic, and when he speaks, his voice barely comes out.

“MJ, I--”

Then, everything goes dark and quiet. When MJ opens her eyes, she’s on the other side of the kitchen. The wall has stopped her from going any further, and her head is aching. There is smoke everywhere and she can hardly see inches in front of her.

Sound is slowly coming back to her, and when it does, she wishes it hadn’t. Among the thuds of falling debris around her and buzzes of electrical sockets shortening, there’s an all too familiar laugh filling the air.

As the dirty air disperses a little, she can see Harry on the floor, flat on his stomach. He’s reaching out his hand and dragging his limp body towards her.

“MJ-- I’m so…. S-Sorry.” He’s uncontrollably sobbing. His tears mixing with the blood that is on his cheek.

She closes her eyes. She knows exactly what is happening. He’s here for _her_ this time.

When she opens them again, a pair of glowing yellow eyes are inches in front of her.

“You’re coming with me, darling.” The Green Goblin says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll be taking a break from posting the story for a bit, but we’ll be back soon!
> 
> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

MJ had always loved flying through the New York sky.

Whenever Peter would wrap his arm around her waist and shoot his webbing out, she would feel like time stood still, and her and Peter were the only ones in the world. Her belly would fill with tingling anticipation, and when they would finally start swinging, she’d feel invincible.

A small, silly part of her wonders if that feeling is now tainted for her forever.

It’s hard to hear anything from up here, the hoverboard makes a lot of noise, and the Green Goblin-- known by the population below them as the respectful Norman Osborn, is laughing so deliriously it consumes her.

He had put some type of gas over her to sedate her, but MJ is trying hard to fight against it and stay awake, her head feeling like it weighs a ton. She knows it’s stupid, and that whatever it is he used will knock her out regardless, but it’s the only way she can fight against Norman Osborn.

He is holding on to her tightly, in a way that is clearly meant to hurt and bruise, and MJ can’t move, not even to see how far up they are.

It feels like they’ve been flying for hours, MJ drifting in and out of consciousness, but before she realizes it, she sees the familiar lights twinkling in the dark, and knows she is back at the Brooklyn Bridge. The dreadful place she has avoided going to, even to look at, for over a year now. She knows that if she makes it out of here alive, which is doubtful, nightmares will continuously haunt her sleep.

Panic begins to touch every cell of her being, and she starts to thrash in Norman’s arms. It only seems to make him laugh more, but she keeps squirming, moving her arms, legs and torso around as much as she can, even though his metal suit against her flesh is excruciating.

She manages to hit him a few times, and she feels them lose altitude when she does.

Norman violently throws her down on top of the highest pillar on the bridge, and she thumps hard on the concrete, pain vibrating through her elbow. He starts to fly around above the water, his laugh chilling her to the bone.

A strange resignation comes to her. She tried fighting him off, but her bare hands could never be a match to his armour and colossal strength. MJ can’t scream loud enough for anyone to hear her from up here, the civilians below oblivious, and she knows this is it for her.

Yet, her mind isn’t focusing on her injuries, her fear, or the fact that everything she’s lived for ends here. The only thought in her mind is of a scrawny boy she met on a rooftop, and what a shame it is she won’t even get a chance to say goodbye, or let him know how she’s always felt about him all these years. MJ hopes he somehow knows all of this, but she bitterly laughs the thought away, knowing she’s been too good at hiding that from him.

As the Goblin circles above her, MJ allows herself to remember all of the memories she’s made with Peter; their jokes, their fights, the accidental touches of hands that would set her skin ablaze… And then it hits her.

She runs her hand onto her thigh and can feel her keys in her jean’s pocket. Frantically retrieving them, she sees that the panic button Peter made for her is still attached to it. In her right state of mind, she wouldn’t push it. She wouldn’t make Peter come to such danger like this, not after everything she’s done to try and keep him from getting hurt. But when you truly believe it is your last day on this world, your judgement can cloud a bit, coupled with the drugs fogging MJ’s mind and love making her do crazy things.

Her thumb clicks the button.

The Green Goblin comes soaring towards her, clearly seeing she’s wide awake, and punches her so hard against the side of her skull that she blacks out.

 

* * *

“Mary Jane, oh my God, Mary Jane, _fuck_. You were so smart to press the button. You were so, so smart. I’m here now. I’m here.”

 _Peter_.

MJ barely opens her eyes and sees Peter in his Spider-Man suit cradling her. For a moment, she thinks she is dreaming, but then she sees they’re still on top of the Brooklyn Bridge, and immediately, regret engulfs her. This is exactly what the Goblin wanted. She shouldn’t have called him.

“Peter, it’s Norman Osborn!”

He lifts his mask over his face and she can see his expression turn from worry and desperation to pure confusion.

“PETER, LEAVE, NOW!” She screams, but it’s too late.

The Goblin comes towards them, laughing like a maniac, and throws one of his pumpkin bombs, but Peter catches it before it can land near her.

“I will be right back, okay?” His voice is trying to be reassuring, but his desperation is clear; he knows this is just as bad as she does. He swings off of the pillar with the bomb, throwing it into the large body of water before it can explode.

Norman keeps throwing his bombs down to the bottom of the bridge, explosions going off until it looks like a war zone down there. Peter tries his hardest to get people to safety, and after awhile of this, the bridge becomes nearly secluded other than the three of them.

Peter swings up on top of the pillar again beside MJ, shielding her with his body, moving so he’s in front of her with every move the Goblin makes.

Despite her injuries, MJ manages to get up on her feet behind Peter, not wanting to become an easy target. She feels more confident now that Peter is here, looking around and trying to find a way to either help him or hide somewhere so he can focus on the Goblin.

There aren’t many options when you’re extremely high up in the air on a pillar that’s only just narrow enough for two people to stand on without tipping over, and the wind that hits them ferociously threatens to knock MJ down.

Peter has been trying to deflect the Goblin’s bombs with his webbing, but they seems to have a sort of boomerang technology to them, because they turn right back around and nearly hits them every time. MJ can feel burns on her feet from the explosions on the pillar beneath her.

Right after a particularly forceful blow of the pumpkin bombs, the Goblin’s attention turns completely to Peter, and MJ looks down at the keys that are still in her hand. She narrows her eyes on them, then back up at the Goblin, and with all of her concentration, aims for his head.

They hit him, catching him off guard, and his hoverboard descends a little, making Norman lose his balance and take his eyes off of the both of them.

Peter realizes what MJ did, and takes the opportunity to grab her. He jumps off of the pillar with her wrapped around him, and they swing off the pillar, his webbing directed to stick to another column. Her stomach drops when the web doesn’t attach, and they start to fall.

Not a second later, he shoots another string and this time it connects, and they swing through the air, mere inches from the bottom of the bridge. Peter drops her off on the road when they land, and is already turned halfway to swing back up and get back to the Goblin.

“RUN!” He yells at her.

“I am not leaving you.” MJ retorts, voice wavering.

Rationally, she knows she should. Being around means Peter getting distracted, and she would only get in the way. But the thought of leaving him is unimaginable to her, not with the history of this bridge lingering all around them. She won’t do that.

He turns around, walking towards her as he reaches his hands to cup MJ’s face. His forehead touches hers, and though he still has his mask on, they are so close that his brown eyes are slightly visible from underneath the mesh fabric of his suit.

“And I’m _not_ losing you.” Peter says, voice so low and intimate that only MJ can hear.

Tears well up in her eyes, and that seems to undo him. Letting out a deep breath, he stares at her for a moment longer, knowing there is no use in arguing about this. MJ never knew it, but she always had a way of winning when it came to Peter.

He spins around, his back blocking MJ from danger, and the Goblin comes racing down from above. Panic starts to bubble inside her, her eyes scanning the ruins for something useful when her eyes lock on something.

“Give me that!” MJ yells and points at a long slender piece of metal in the rubble as another pumpkin bomb is thrown at them.

“Why?!” Peter asks, already preparing to grab MJ and jump out of the way.

“Just do it!”

He pulls it towards them with his webbing, and MJ takes it, stepping in front of Peter despite his protesting.

She looks from the bomb to the Goblin back and forth, and when the explosive is only a few feet away, MJ hits it as though hitting a baseball, and it flies away.

The Goblin lets out a laugh, knowing it will just come back around to where he first aimed it, and keeps speeding down.

“Get down!” MJ screams, and pushes herself against Peter, both of them falling to the ground just as the bomb turns around and explodes over Norman, who is now hovering where they were a second ago.

“Mary Jane, that was genius!” Peter yells raising his mask, and she can see him smiling.

A smile forms on her lips as well, but when it does, his falters immediately. Furrowing her brow, she barely even gets the chance to look over her shoulder before the Green Goblin comes speeding towards her through the smoke and grabs her.

It all happens so fast that, for a moment, MJ doesn’t realize she’s back up in the air, and she keeps staring blankly at the arm around her waist, not understanding what’s happening. It’s only when the Goblin’s chilling voice hits her that she seems to wake up, and terror runs in her veins and a whimper escapes her.

“Don’t be so scared, darling,” he hisses. “You’ll be reunited with your dear friend Gwen soon.”

MJ can hear Peter screaming her name in the background. She has only ever heard him this desperate and horribly anguishedonce before....

The Goblin’s grip on her is so tight that she can’t catch her breath, and his armour is digging painfully into her skin, bruising. There is nothing she can do to try and free herself from his hold.

They continue to go higher and higher up into the air, the city fading under them. MJ closes her eyes, knowing that these are her final seconds, and that she never got to tell Peter how she felt about him; that he has always been it for her. It was always him.

“G’bye, Pete.” She whispers to herself, and then she’s falling.

The Goblin’s arms are no longer around her, she feels the wind on her skin, hearing it deafening in her ears, and she’s oddly at peace. In just a few short moments, she will collide with the earth and everything will be over.

MJ keeps her eyes shut tight, tears streaming down her face, but she isn’t sure why. She always figured she’d want to see as much of the world around her as possible before she died, yet the only images going through her mind are of Peter, their moments together playing like a montage in her head.

But wind isn’t the only sound now. She can hear Peter struggling to get to her, she can hear his effort, his grunting and the sound of his web-shooters working.

She opens her eyes and she’s still falling, falling so close to the water, but she sees him. He’s attached his webbing to the side of the bridge and he’s there, only a few meters from her. It’s almost like somebody is taunting her, showing her what she’ll never have.

She closes her eyes one last time, unable to watch him until the last moment, not wanting the fright on his face to be the last thing she sees.

And then it's just darkness.

* * *

“NO! No no no. _Fuck_ , Mary Jane, wake up! You have to wake up right now, you hear me? You can’t leave me," Peter weeps. “Don’t you dare leave me… Don’t… Come back to me. Come b-back…”

_Am I… dead?_

Peter is all that she can hear. It’s not so bad. She can smell him, and feel his hands cradling her in his arms. The kisses on her forehead and cheeks, and the tears that fall from his eyes onto her lips act like a spark that starts a fire inside of her. Out of the darkness she can feel and hear and smell and taste it all….

“You’re alright, you’re fine. Just stay with me. I love you, Mary Jane. Oh, God I love you. Please, wake up. Wake up for me…” Peter begs.

MJ’s eyes flutter open, and it takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the setting sun, but she can instantly tell they’re no longer on the bridge. They’re on a rooftop somewhere, and she can’t hear the Goblin’s laugh anymore. Peter took her to safety. He saved her. Peter saved MJ.

“Oh my God, Mary Jane?” Peter asks shakily, brushing his thumb over her cheek, and his breathing stops at the movement of her eyelids.

Fully opening her eyes, she sees his face crumpled, cheeks stained with tears, eyes red and puffy as if he had been crying for a long time.

“... ‘Ry Jane…?” His voice is soft, quiet, and clearly desperate.

“P-pete…” MJ says, shocked. _I’m not dead. This is real. He is here. He is here with me._

“Thank God!” He starts to weep uncontrollably again, bringing her head up to his chest, rocking back and forth, her whole body wrapped up in his as if he will never let her go again.

“ _I thought you were gone… I thought you were gone_ …” Peter says continuously, panicking and crying into her hair.

Suddenly MJ gets more alert, as if calming Peter down is her sole mission in life. She can’t see him like this. Sitting up with much effort, she wraps her arms around him and he slides his cheek down her chest, sobbing violently.

“I’m here, Pete, I’m here.” She whispers to him, squeezing his shaking body tight. “I told you, I’m not leaving you.”

It takes several minutes for Peter to calm down, and MJ's heart clenches a bit at every wet sniffle coming from him. He looks as broken as she has ever seen him, and she can't stand that it's because of her.

She gently runs her fingers through his hair and gets lost in the gesture, always having wanted to be able to do this unabashedly and freely. It seems to hush Peter, and it isn't long before his breathing gets a little more steady and he can get up from her embrace.

MJ's heartstrings tug one more time when she sees his anguished face, so she cups one hand on his cheek and offers him a small, gentle smile, as if to say that they're both okay now.

Peter takes a few deep breaths, and laces MJ's hand with his, squeezing tightly. His eyes are intense on hers, and he doesn't avert his gaze for seemingly countless moments, and she stares right back, every emotion in her body threatening to spill out.

"I mean it." Peter suddenly says, voice firm in a way that it wasn't before when he was crying, or maybe ever. "I love you, Mary Jane Watson. I love you so much that sometimes it feels I'll go crazy with it. And I've loved you for a long time, now. Probably longer than I've been willing to admit."

MJ’s eyes widen and she stares straight back at him.

It's everything she has wanted to hear for years, and even after what she's been through tonight, all she wants to do is scream and laugh with pure joy and relief.

All the emotions of everything is so much, a giggle bursts out of her, and before she can think or say anything, her body acts on its own accord. Throwing her arms around his neck, MJ kisses Peter achingly, making up for all of the time they've lost, and she can feel another delighted giggle wanting to come out at just how ardently Peter is kissing her back, one hand burying itself in her hair and the other on the small of her back as if trying to bring her so close to him that they'll become one entirely.

"I love you, Pete," MJ gets out in between the burning kisses. "I love”, she kisses his lips, “you”, his cheeks, “so”, his forehead, “much..." his lips over and over.

The kisses slow down after some time, and it's not long before they're just holding each other close. There are no words exchanged between them now, but the silence has never felt safer. It feels like they're finally complete.

But MJ still feels as excited and hyper as a child, and she's about to say something when there's an explosion in the building they’re standing on, with a very familiar poisonous green smoke rising up in the air around them, and the reality of the night sets down on them again.

"I have to go," Peter says while getting up with MJ, looking down the ledge to where the blast happened, visibly worried at what the Goblin is doing. He’s so close to them and the neighborhood’s filled with innocent civilians. But his arms are making no moves to untangle themselves from MJ, such is his reluctance to let her go.

"Pete, there's something you should know about him..." MJ starts, but Peter interrupts her.

"I know," he states, finally moving to put his Spider-Man mask back on, only halfway so his mouth is uncovered. "It's Harry's dad. I heard you on the bridge."

His voice sounds uncharacteristically cold, and MJ has a feeling of what that means. By morning, none of them will be getting out of this unchanged.

"Please be careful." She pleads, every cell in her body screaming at her not to let him go, and Peter kisses her lips softly, lingering a little.

"Listen to me, you stay here, okay? I'll draw him as far away from here as I can, he will never get to you again."

"Tiger..." MJ tries, her hands placed above his heart.

"Hey," he looks at her, gently tipping her chin up with his index finger. "I'm not letting you get away now that I've got you. I _will_ come back. That's a promise."

And with a kiss to her forehead, he places his mask fully over his face and crawls down the building’s stories to find the monster who almost took everything he had again.

MJ can’t help but follow Peter with her gaze, propping herself up on the ledge of the rooftop, her injuries only now beginning to dawn on her. She has a hard time standing up, her arms on the concrete wall doing most of the work to support her, and her clothes are ripped and blood-stained all over.

As Peter nears the explosion site, every breath out of MJ’s mouth turns into a prayer that he’ll come back safely to her.

She’s so focused on him that she doesn’t register the sound of footsteps behind her, nor the hands reaching out to grab her.

“MJ, what are you doing here?!” A familiar voice cries, and when MJ turns around, startled, she sees Harry. He looks scared and desperate, with blood dripping from his face and it makes her stomach turn. With everything that has happened, she didn’t even think of Harry back at their place, if he was okay from the explosion, or even alive...

“How did you get up here?” she asks him, trying to make sense of the situation.

“I’ve been following my da--That monster since he took you.” He replies. “When I got to the apartment, I had already grabbed the tracker from his personal lab, and his hoverboard still has the GPS device attached to it.”

Harry stares at MJ and her face is neutral.

“MJ, I am… So sorry. I should have listened to you… I--”

Another blow hits the building, and both of them duck to try and protect themselves, and the Goblin appears whooshing down from the smoke. Peter is nowhere to be found.

“I’m a very successful man,” the Goblin hisses. “I don’t like when things don’t go my way…” His yellow eyes are locked onto MJ. “So this time, I _WILL_ kill you."

He starts to propel his way to her, still hovering in the air when something grabs him from behind and jerks him back quickly. The Goblin loses his bearings and falters. Peter’s webbing is attached to the back of the Goblin’s helmet and he pulls it with all his strength as he stands on the ledge of the building.

Norman gets annoyed by the distraction; another obstacle in his way. He charges towards Peter, a bomb in hand.

Peter seems to be trying to tire the Goblin out, keeping his distance and making the monster chase him, but Norman never gets too far from the building he’s hovering above. MJ can tell that he doesn’t want to lose sight of her.

Sure enough, after only a few minutes of a half-hearted fight from the Goblin’s end, he manages to get away from Spider-Man’s grip for a second. As Peter shoots a web and latches on to the armour, Norman flies straight into the building, crashing both of them into the concrete wall.

The commotion from their fight must have gotten the attention of the authorities, because police and emergency cars start to quickly round up the building, and there’s a helicopter overhead, shining blinding spotlights into the battle scene.

Harry is making all the effort he can to try and keep MJ safe, but it’s nearly useless with his wounds making it hard for him to even walk straight. MJ’s mind is a lot more preoccupied with the scene in front of her than her safety, anyway.

From under the rubble the Goblin’s crash created, she can see an unmoving cluster of red and blue, and she has to keep herself from running towards him. She can’t see the Goblin from where she is, and the last thing she wants to do is act stupidly and become an easy target for him.

“Please, Pete… Please get up,” she whispers to herself, eyes not blinking.

Peter struggles to stand up, toppling over after a few tries, but he eventually manages to do it, if a bit shakily, and MJ barely has time to breathe in relief when she realizes half of Peter’s mask has been torn to shreds, and that his face is fully recognizable.

Looking down at the street, MJ can clearly see the media trying to get a scoop on what’s happening, and among the journalists she sees a very familiar logo imprinted on a large vehicle. The Bugle’s news truck, the one they use to report live for their website.

_Shit._

Turning back to the building, MJ watches Peter frozen in place, obviously aware of the consequences of his identity being out in the open. He tries not to look up, and there’s enough blood on his face for it to serve as some disguise, but that means he doesn’t have a shot of anticipating what happens around him next.

The streets are busy again with reporters, the police, and curious people, but a sound like none of them has ever heard before seems to still the very blood from their veins. MJ knows that sound, she’s had it etched in the scariest parts of her memories, but it’s never been this grotesque, or as booming and powerful.

From the back of some of the rubble Peter is standing near comes out a creature not even wildest nightmares could concoct. Each of its steps shakes the surrounding debris, and its laugh-- the earsplitting sound-- takes over the air.

Once it fully comes into the light, MJ thinks she’s going to be sick.

The Goblin looks three times bigger than before, towering over Peter as though a human to a roach. No longer wearing any armour, its skin looks stretched to bursting with the size of its muscles, but the worst is its face. Anything remotely human that remained before is now gone, and only a true demon lingers. He throws the needle that was in his neck to the side.

Thinking fast, Peter starts webbing the monster’s hands, preventing it from striking, but the hold isn’t strong enough. By the time Peter has found something around the room to help him fight, the Goblin is already free and coming towards him.

Peter near-misses every single hit, using the rubble around as shields or weapons in his favour, but the damage he’s doing to the villain is minimal, and even MJ can tell he’s getting tired.

The Goblin takes an enormous piece of concrete from the wreckage and throws it towards MJ and Harry, who stands paralyzed with fear. It’s almost about to hit him when Peter manages to swoop in and catch it, holding it over his head. But Harry may as well have been struck with the expression his face makes.

“I-It’s… it’s you,” he stammers, incredulous.

Peter had forgotten about his torn up mask, and now that they’re face to face, there is no way to deny the truth. Harry knows his identity now.

“Watch out!” MJ screams, seeing the Goblin charging towards the boys, but it comes too late. Peter is thrown to the side, hitting the wall hard, and Harry falls down backwards from the fright.

Not seeming to care about the presence of his own son in the middle of this fight, Norman goes straight to Peter, holding him down under his foot.

“I was most looking forward to having some fun with your little girlfriend, but now that you’ve angered me, I think I just might cut the middleman and finish you instead,” the monster hisses almost unintelligibly, forcing his body down onto Peter, who seems to be choking under the weight.  

Fear runs through MJ and she runs towards them, not entirely sure what she’s going to do, but before she can make any plan, the Goblin spins around, foot still on Peter, grabbing her and throws her against a wall.

When it seems the battle has been lost, MJ’s eyes weakly locking with Peter’s, both of their bodies imploring for mercy in the silence, an anguished cry fills the air.

Harry has an iron bar in hand, the one used as the skeleton of buildings, and he gathers all of the force he has left to plunge it right into the Goblin’s back, making its way through the other side.

The monster instantly stands up straight, confused, and removes his foot from Peter’s chest. Looking down at its own stomach, it sees the bar, and turns back, finally seeming to notice his son there.

There’s blood gushing from its wound, and it pools on the roof. MJ crawls across the floor to where Peter is, both immediately checking if the other is okay, eyes quickly scanning over each other’s bodies and hands roaming for hidden wounds.

“Harr….. y…” Norman cries.

The Goblin tries to takes a few steps towards Harry, but topples over instead, collapsing to the ground. In seconds, its skin goes from sickly green-ish to grey, then to a pale pink, and he starts to shrink in size.

After no longer than a minute, the rooftop is rid of monsters, and only four human beings remain. The Goblin has transformed back into Norman Osborn, and his body lies dead in front of Harry, Peter, and MJ.

Harry looks frozen for a second before starting to sob as he collapses to the ground on his knees, his fingers going through his untamed hair.

Peter looks to the sky, seeing helicopters above again, and he gets up, wincing in pain and grabbing MJ by the waist.

“Har, we’ve gotta go…” He tells him, but Harry doesn’t move.

“Harry?” MJ asks, softly.

“I’m not going. Go. Take MJ. I’m staying here.” Harry says between sobs, waving them dismissively.

MJ and Peter look at each other with pain in their eyes. They don’t want to leave him like this, but Harry has connections and the best lawyers the city has to offer, so he’ll be safe from the media. But if Peter and MJ are caught here, they won’t exactly have any explanations. So with one more quick squeeze on Harry’s shoulder, Peter releases his webbing from his shooter while holding onto MJ dearly, and they swing away into the night.

* * *

MJ was wrong. The swinging high in the sky isn’t tainted for her. Not when she’s wrapped up in Peter’s embrace like this. She squeezes him tighter than usual; not because she’s afraid of falling or that he’ll drop her, but because after everything they’ve been through… Not just tonight, but since she met this boy on the rooftop all those years ago, she’s never going to let him go.

They swing to their apartment, and they can see that all the rubble has been cleared out and a heavy tarp covers everywhere the explosion hit. Harry must have gotten someone to start renovations, and MJ sighs in relief: one less thing to worry about.

Landing on the ledge of Peter’s open bedroom window, Peter lets MJ crawl in first, then he follows right after, taking his mask off as he does. Once he’s inside, he reaches out for MJ’s hand to hold, and she turns around to look at him.

“Sorry, I just… I can’t let you go. Not yet.” He explains as he rubs the back of his head with his other hand.

MJ places both of her hands on Peter’s chest and just looks at his face. She starts with his beautiful brown eyes that she seems to get lost in more often than not. Then she focuses on his nose, which is slightly wider and a bit more crooked than the average, most likely from being broken multiple times, and she can’t explain how much she loves that nose. His bushy eyebrows. His small, subtle freckle under his eye. His lips. The lips that she had dreamt countless times about kissing. And now she has. And now she can whenever she pleases.

Their lips meet, and MJ’s hands slide up and find their way into his unruly hair. His, in turn,  slide down to her lower back, bringing her closer into him.

MJ’s so lost in his scent, in his movements, and in the way he’s holding her, that when he breaks away from the kiss, there’s a moment where she doesn’t open her eyes.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this…” Peter says, looking down at her.

“Me too.” MJ replies without skipping a beat.

It’s true. She has never wanted to be with someone as much as she does with Peter Parker.

“Before this goes any further, though, I want you to know you have an out.” He averts his gaze from her now, looking down at the floor.

“What?” MJ’s heart sinks. “What do you mean, Pete?” She crinkles her forehead, confused at the question and why they had to stop kissing.

He sighs and drops his arms from holding her, walking over to his bed and sitting down on it.

MJ instantly follows him, limping as she does, sitting closely and grabbing his hand in hers.

“You got _kidnapped_ , MJ. You nearly _died_ tonight. Being Spider-Man comes with terrible baggage. I can’t exactly avoid it because Spider-Man is a part of me, but it doesn’t have to be a part of you.”

“Tiger, enough.” MJ interrupts him, squeezing his hands in comfort.

She lifts one hand up to his face and gently grabs his chin, moving it so he’s now looking at her.

“You’re Spider-Man, and I love that. Just as much as I love Peter Parker. Because that’s a part of you. You can’t have one without the other, and I love all of you. Every inch. And I wouldn’t change that for the world. Sure, you’ve got some occupational hazards--” Peter snorts at her joke. “But I’d rather deal with them than be without you for even a second.”

Peter can’t suppress a smile, but then it falters a little.

“This isn’t an easy question, MJ, you should take more time to--”

“It is the simplest question I’ve ever been asked. I want to be with _you_ , Peter.”

He sighs as if he’s relieved she said these things, and scolding her for being so reckless at the same time. Desperately, Peter grabs MJ’s face and kisses her, but she cries out in pain, causing him to jerk himself back.

“Ow… Mood killer…” She says as she clutches onto her side, finally realizing her injuries.

“Shit! Shit, yeah, oh man. Sometimes I forget people don’t heal as fast as me. Come on.”

Peter grabs MJ’s hand, being as delicate as possible, and guides her out of his bedroom and to one of the bathrooms in the house.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, he retrieves a first aid kit, opening it and looking through its contents.

MJ hops up onto the counter to sit on, lifting up her shirt, revealing a gash along the side of her ribs which is starting to bruise a lot around the edges. Peter gets a soft towel to soak up the blood, but her shirt keeps falling and getting in the way.

“Uh, here.” MJ says nervously as she takes off the blood-stained, ripped shirt, throwing it into the garbage can.

MJ has never been overly modest, but standing here in front of Peter in just a bra is making her noticeably blush. She relaxes a little when she can see that his cheeks are bright red, too.

Peter clears his throat and stands in between MJ’s legs, starting to clean the wound more.

“First time seeing a pair of these?” She asks playfully, then bites her lip.

“What?” Peter replies, trying very hard not to look away from the wound he’s tending to.

“Astronauts can see you from space, you’re blushing so much.”

Peter looks up at her face, still avoiding her chest area, and there’s a smirk forming on his lips.

“I will have you know that, as Spider-Man, it is my duty to take care of people, not take advantage of them. It’s in the oath.” He says matter-of-factly with a serious voice, but with his face betraying him

“There’s an oath?”

“All Spider-Men must take the oath,” he explains.

“There are no other Spider-Men.” MJ says in mock-annoyance.

“...Well--Yeah, but… Weren’t you in pain, or something?”

MJ laughs loudly and kisses him, and her stomach flutters at the knowledge that she doesn’t have to hold back those urges to do this anymore.

Despite his kissing back, he tells her against her lips that he needs to tend to her injuries, and she groans, reluctantly letting go.

He focuses intensely on the gash, a slight crease in his eyebrow as he gently puts gauze to the wound.

MJ doesn’t concentrate on it, though, she’s too preoccupied with running her fingers through his hair, staring at him so contently.

As Peter finishes up putting on bandages, MJ can’t help but bring up something she’s wondered about since she found out Peter is Spider-Man.  

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Red.”

“How do you fix all the suits that get ruined?”

There’s a long pause after the question, and MJ starts to think he won’t answer.

“I sew them,” he finally replies. “Don’t tell Aunt May.”

MJ’s eyebrows shoot right up and a grin is plastered on her face. She grabs Peter’s arm and lifts it up, her other hand tracing the hems of his suit on his torso.

“Wow, tiger, you’ve got a delicate hand. Ever thought about being on Project Runway?”

Peter jokingly glares right at her.

“Can I ask another question?” MJ asks as Peter helps her down from the counter.

He snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Yes.”

“It was totally that day at the Oscorp building, at the field trip, wasn’t it? That’s when you got your powers.”

Peter glances and MJ and just smiles.

“You’re quite the journalist, Miss Watson.”

“You have no idea.” MJ answers, walking ahead of him down the hall. “I kind of feel like a movie right now. Wanna get it started, while I go get a shirt?”

Peter nods, and she makes her way into his bedroom instead of hers, which causes him to raise his eyebrows, but he keeps walking to the living room.

MJ has to nearly refrain from jumping up and down and screaming at the top of her lungs right then and there. She had the most traumatizing day, yet she has never felt so alive than she does now.

She goes into Peter’s wardrobe and gets what she was looking for, puts it on, and walks out to meet him on the sofa.

When he turns around to look at her, MJ is wearing the shirt part of his Spider-Man suit, a clean and not damaged extra one he keeps with the rest of his clothes. Peter nearly chokes on the Root Beer he just sipped.

MJ puts her modelling knowledge to good use and starts posing for him in it, in a silly way. The shirt is extremely baggy on her, the sleeves going past her hands, and Peter can’t stop a laugh from coming out.

“So what did you choose for us to watch?” MJ asks once she’s sat beside him.

“I think, after the night we’ve had, we deserve something light,” Peter says, reaching for the remote and pressing play.

Turning to the TV screen, MJ recognizes the opening titles of Beethoven, and she laughs out loud.

“I’m so glad it’s not Marley & Me.” She chuckles, resting her head on Peter’s shoulder and getting comfortable on the couch, and the two of them fall asleep before the film is finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Graphic Description of Violence
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE BACK!  
> So sorry for the long hiatus, but we are back now, and will continue on with posting a new chapter every second Wednesday until further notice.
> 
> We would like to dedicate this chapter to 'Leiassolo'. They did a huge review on every single chapter that we have so far (20 long essays each), and it's honestly so amazing and it's why we do what we do. So this is for you, Leiassolo!

MJ stretches on the sofa, reaching out for Peter who slept beside her last night. When she isn’t met with his body, she opens her eyes, the sun shining brightly in the spot where he isn’t lying anymore. Her heart sinks, knowing he’s probably out patrolling, keeping New York safe from the terrors that linger. It’s something she has to get used to, but she already misses him.

“Morning, beautiful.”

She sits up and sees Peter walking back into the living room with the morning paper, and her stomach eases its tension at the sight of him.

Still a little too groggy to respond, she just gives him a big grin.

“You were out like a light bulb last night. Passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow,” He teases. “And by pillow, I mean my shoulder. Pretty sure you drooled on me, too.”

MJ yawns before answering.

“In my defense, I had a long day of being kidnapped yesterday.” She banters back, but Peter’s face falls, and he looks ashamed.

“Hey…” She furrows her brow, “Come here.”

Peter walks towards her, sitting down next to her on the couch. She grabs his hand in hers.

“This is my choice, alright? None of this was your fault. Don’t blame yourself for something you can’t control, okay?” She goes to kiss him on the cheek, but he turns his head and her lips connect with his.

She lingers there for a moment before she pulls back.

“So, anything interesting in the newspaper?” She’s almost too scared to ask.

“Good news. And bad.” He replies. “There’s no clear shot of my face in any of the photos, so all they know is that Spider-Man was there.”

MJ gulps. “And the bad?”

“There’s definitely a photo of your red hair… But I mean, there’s got to be thousands of redheads in New York City, right?” He tries to reassure her.

“Yeah…” She replies, but her mind starts to wander. She’s been in a lot of magazines and ads all around the city over the last few months, and it’s not too far-fetched to think someone might recognize her from seeing those.

“Have you heard anything from Harry?” MJ asks, trying to get her mind to stop thinking about crazy and unlikely scenarios.

Peter sighs heavily, his head facing down before he answers.

“No, not a word. Which I guess is a good thing; he’s too famous for something too bad to have happened without the press being all over it.”

MJ nods in agreement.

“But I’m still worried, you know?” Peter continues. “It’s a lot to happen to someone in one night. And I don’t know if he hates me now, or what. You should’ve seen his expression when he saw it was me behind the mask, Red. It’s like I’d punched him, or something.”

MJ runs her thumb over the back of Peter’s hand in comfort, her heart feeling heavy.

“I don’t think he hates you. He probably just needs some time to process everything.” She’s half trying to convince herself when she says it. “Do you think there’ll be a funeral?”

“No idea.”

Silence stretches on between them for a few moments, both of them clearly at a loss as to how to behave. The Goblin is finally gone, and Peter and MJ are together, but at the same time, their best friend just lost his father, and is nowhere to be found.

The alarm on MJ’s phone goes off, and she and Peter just stare each other unimpressed.

 _School_.

With everything that has been happening, going to class and worrying about papers and midterms and homework seems so incredibly small and insignificant, but just because there’s a lot going on, it doesn’t mean MJ wants to throw away her future.

“Well… We should probably get ready for school.” Peter admits.

“ _Nerd_.” MJ whispers, and Peter gives a mock shocked face, both laughing out loud.

MJ calls dibs on the shower and gets up to walk to the bathroom, but immediately topples over clutching her side. She forgot about her injury.

“Mary Jane, are you okay?” Peter asks, standing by her side steadying her in a second.

“Yeah, Tiger, I’m good. Just got to take it easy.” She pats his hand away, but gives him a kiss on the cheek before she heads to the washroom, leaving a worried-yet-amused-looking Peter behind.

* * *

They walk side by side to the bus stop to get to ESU, Peter doing a very bad job at not touching MJ at all times; his hand on the small of her back, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, wrapping around her shoulder, and MJ starts to laugh a little.

“What?” Peter asks, smiling big enough to make his eyes crinkle while he looks at her.

“I just find it kind of funny that… Well, we’re _walking_ and taking _transport_ to school.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mary Jane Watson. Seems pretty normal to me.” Peter raises his head high, being completely oblivious on purpose.

She shoulders his arm but he doesn’t budge, not that she expected him to. They both sit down at the bus stop, and Peter starts fidgeting with his fingers before he begins to talk.

“So, I was wondering if tonight we could talk about what we… I mean, what this… between us--” He begins, but gets interrupted.

“MJ? MJ Watson?” An older-looking man inquires, walking to the pair of them. Peter instinctively moves a little closer to MJ.

She doesn’t think she recognizes the tall, slender man from anywhere, but she’s met so many people over the last few months between her job at the Bugle and modeling that she can’t really be sure. Not wanting to be rude to a possible work connection, she politely replies to the question, and the man’s face lights up immediately.

“It’s really… It’s really you. Wow. Oh my-- I-- I’m your biggest fan, I have a folder with all of your ads and press clippings about you.”

No one has ever approached MJ about her work like this, aside from Carlie, but that was more so about her articles, something that’s considered a lot more respectful (or so MJ was raised to think) than posing for a camera.

This is completely new to her, somebody coming up out of the blue on the street and looking so star-struck. MJ’s belly warms up with excitement at the thought of having a fan. It’s nothing she has ever considered before, only really taking up modeling because of how it made her feel, but she thinks she can get used to it.

“Do you mind if I get your autograph?” The man asks after a moment, MJ obviously too stunned to speak.

“Yes! Of course.” She snaps out of her stupor and starts to rummage through her bag, looking for a pen.

“Here, I’ve got this Sharpie. If you don’t mind writing it here.” He taps his skin on his upper arm, and MJ gives a confused expression. “I want to get it tattooed later.”

Her stomach sinks a bit. The request is odd, but then she tries to remember how obsessed she was over the Backstreet Boys as a tween and how exciting it’d be to meet someone you look up to. Even if he is at least a decade older than her.

Peter is undoubtedly uncomfortable by the suggestion too, as she can feel him go stiff beside her. He’s just about to get up and say something when MJ rubs his thigh to reassure him.

“No problem.” She responds while getting up and retrieving the marker from the man.

Peter gets up as soon she does to stand by her, and he looks at the man, who isn’t taking his eyes off MJ for a second.

“Here you go,” she says once she’s done signing, trying to be friendly despite Peter’s alarmed grip on her waist

But the man doesn’t make a move to leave, instead just standing in front of them, eyes still glued on MJ. She’s about to say something when their bus arrives, and Peter takes her hand and pulls her onto to it, leaving the odd-looking man to stare at the vehicle until it turns a corner.

“Well, I didn’t like _that_ …” Peter mumbles as they find a seat in the back.

“A little odd, yeah. I think you’re just being overprotective, though.” She sticks her tongue out at him, but he doesn’t laugh.

“Just be careful with those guys, Mary Jane. I’ve seen my fair share of weirdos, and you never know what they’re capable of.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile, but makes a mental note to buy herself some mace to carry in her bag when she gets a chance. Just in case.

“And keep that damned button on your keychain.” He adds.

MJ feels Peter’s hand slide down the top of hers and their fingers entwine. She looks down at it, and lets out a deep sigh. She still has to remind herself that this is her new normal now; It feels so right for it to be happening, so natural like it was just meant to be all along, like they’ve been together for a lifetime. And yet the early-days butterflies don’t stop, the excitement of the newness still buzzing underneath her skin. The fact Peter reciprocates how she feels multiplies the butterflies tenfold.

She wonders how she’ll get anything done with him around, looking at her with his big, dumb, brown eyes.

They arrive to campus in no time, stopping in the courtyard to make plans to meet at 4 o’clock, since they have different classes the whole day. Kissing each other goodbye, they walk to their respective classes, smiles playing on both of their lips.

Class is long and boring, but MJ is barely paying attention. All she can think about was that encounter with that fan of hers. Was that a normal experience? Clearly MJ has never been in that position before, of being someone’s idol. So it most definitely could be innocent. Except something just doesn’t sit right with MJ after dwelling on it; she has always been an intuitive person, so she has learned to trust herself.

There’s no point in contemplating it, though. The city is huge, and chances of running into the man again is unlikely.

* * *

As she walks to the bus stop she got off with Peter a few hours earlier, she sees him waiting for her, his head down in a textbook.

She can’t help but smile at the sight of the lanky boy who waits for her, the same boy that had his face in a textbook the night they met on the roof.

When he lifts his head and his eyes connect with MJ’s, he too gets a dopey grin on his face. He meets her halfway, and MJ looks up at him. Peter's head bends down and their lips meet.

"I like doing that." He says, and MJ's smile won't fade.

They get on the bus together, and once they find a seat, MJ mentions something that has been bugging her for a while.

“So I was thinking,” MJ starts. “Considering there’s still a hole in Harry’s wall, and after everything that has happened, I don’t want to mooch off of him any longer… Should we move back to the dorms?”

They’ve both been living there for so long that it feels strange to call it “Harry’s” but the truth is, it was never meant to be a permanent home for them. Though Harry himself was seldom around, now that he’s missing, it doesn’t seem right to keep staying there without him, as if nothing had happened.

“Red, we are just two peas.” Peter says. “I was thinking the _exact_ same thing. And even though I love living with you, now that we’re together… If we’re together… _A-Are_ we together?” He starts to get flustered. “Uhm, I just don’t want us to… Get ahead of ourselves? I mean, living together is a big step to take in a relationship. Not that we are in a relationship! ... _Are_ we?”

MJ laughs at his fumbling, placing her index finger on his lips to stop him from talking more.

“I’m more than happy to be your girlfriend if you want me to be.” MJ says as she gets up from the seat, as they’re near their stop.

Peter gets up as well and scratches the back of his head with a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me, girlfriend.”

The bus slowly comes to a halt and MJ’s just about to get off when Peter grabs her hand. She looks over her shoulder at him and his face is straight.

“Let’s wait till the next stop…” Peter’s voice is low.

“Why?” MJ asks, confused.

Before the reply comes, she looks out of the bus window and sees that same man who asked for her autograph this morning outside their stop. Her heart sinks a little, but she doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“That’s probably just a coincidence, Pete.” She tries to convince herself, too.

“I don’t want to take that chance,” His voice is still grave and protective as he eyes the man suspiciously.

Before the stranger can see her, MJ sits back down in her seat, slightly covering her face with her hair, and Peter’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

Getting off at the following bus stop, out of the man’s view, Peter leads MJ into an empty alley, arm wrapping around her waist. She gets the hint and braces herself around his neck, and Peter shoots a web up high, leading them to the rooftop of the residential building.

He swings them all the way back to their apartment, coming in through his bedroom window. As MJ sets her things down by the bed, she’s hit with a tiny stab of sadness about their moving out. There’s a lot of history in this place, both good and bad, that she doesn’t think she’s prepared to leave behind just yet. Even though she knows she should.

* * *

The next day, both Peter and MJ shuffle around trying to get their housing situation sorted. They make dozens of phone calls and talk to double the people to try and find two different vacancies at this time of year.

“I swear, if I never see a phone again it’ll be too soon,” MJ says, as she hangs up another call with an exasperated sigh. Peter, who’s sitting right next to her in the dining table, raises his hand to rub her shoulder in comfort.

“I know what you mean, I think I have callus on my tongue from talking so much,” he replies. “Can you get calluses on your tongue?” He asks, voice sounding funny as he pulls his tongue out with his thumb and index fingers, trying to inspect the surface.

MJ laughs softly, feeling slightly less stressed.

“Any luck on your side?”

“Apparently there’s a dorm with one spot left, and the guy needs a roommate. Supposedly he’s blind and no one really wants to deal with that on top of midterms and stuff. But it’s kind of perfect for me? You know, because of my after school curricular activities.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

MJ blows a strand of hair out of her face.

“Well, I’m glad _you’re_ figured out.” She says as she places her forehead on the counter.

“Hey. We’ll find you something.”

Just as Peter reassures her, MJ’s phone starts to ring, and MJ’s head perks up.

“Ten bucks says that’s your new dorm.”

MJ mock-eyerolls him and picks up her phone.

“Ms. Watson? I’m calling in regard to your housing application. We have reviewed your file and in light of your… unique situation, what with the tragic events of last year, we have made some arrangements and can offer you a vacancy, even though we are well into the school year. If you could stop by the offices at your earliest convenience, we can sort things out for you.”

A little stunned at the unexpected break, and looking at Peter through squinted eyes because of his smug face, it takes MJ a second to reply to the woman on the phone.

“Miss Watson?”

“Yes! Sorry, of course! I’ll come in tomorrow morning. Thank you so much!”

MJ hangs up the phone and stares at Peter with a big grin on her face.

“Can you break a twenty?”

“YES!”

He gets up from the chair and wraps his arms around her waist, twirling her around the room as she laughs.

“This is great! We’ll go tomorrow and get the keys,” Peter’s face falls. “We should probably start packing… Ugh.” He groans dramatically.

But suddenly, he looks very alert, as if he’s been jolted, and MJ knows exactly what that means.

“Can I come with you?”

Peter looks confused. “What?”

“I haven’t written an article in a long time and I really would like to be the first on the scene. Can I come?” MJ asks again.

“MJ, I don’t know… It’s so dangerous out there-- I have no clue what this could be.”

“Don’t ‘it’s dangerous’ me. If you’re going out there, so can I.” MJ sighs and faces Peter, putting her hands around his face. “We’re wasting time, Pete. Please don’t worry about me. Nothing will happen, and if anything gets too bad, I’ll leave. Promise.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Peter negotiates while he starts to speed walk to his bedroom to get his suit on. MJ follows behind, making a grunting noise as to get him to continue talking.

“I’ll take you, only if you promise me that as soon as anything goes south, you get out of there right away.”

“I just said I wou--”

“And that you allow me to teach you some defense moves in our free time.” He looks at her, kisses her forehead and enters his room to change.

MJ lingers outside the door, leaning her back on the wall, brow furrowed.

“Defense moves?” She asks incredulously.

“Yeah. I’ll teach you some stuff. I can’t have you out there all the time and not be prepared for the worst.”

MJ finds the request a little ridiculous at first, but the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. She is the girlfriend of _Spider-Man_ after all. And if her past indicates anything, it’s that she’s usually in crazy situations. Maybe knowing a thing or two won’t hurt.

“Fine.” She reluctantly answers, even though she knows he’s right.

“Great. I’ll take you after our first lesson.” He says, and then it goes quiet.

“What? No! Peter, take me now!”

Nothing.

“Peter?!” MJ shouts.

Still nothing.

She stomps into his room, not bothering to knock, but he isn’t there, and his window is open.

“Dammit, Peter Parker!”

* * *

_Mary Jane’s going to_ **kill** _me._ Peter thinks as he releases another web from his web shooter. It expertly attaches to a nearby building and he soars through the sky with the ease of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

_Even I still get nervous when I’m swinging to God knows what. There’s no telling what kind of weirdo I’ll run into, and I’d rather not have her running around with these clowns, risking getting hurt, thankyouverymuch._

His webbing hitching from one skyscraper to the other, Peter’s gut twists further into knots the closer he gets to whatever it is that triggered his Spidey Sense.

_If anything happened to her… No, let’s not go there. Focus, Peter. Focus._

He swings across nearly half of Manhattan in minutes, and his stomach sinks when he sees a green figure flying in the sky. His hand lets go of his webbing for an imperceptible second, and he props himself on a building ledge to gather himself and take a better look at the flying silhouette a few yards away. He has to remind himself over and over again that Norman Osborn is dead. That’s not him.

As Peter jumps back into the air to get closer, he can see a man with mechanical wings painted metallic forest green. He looks far too old to be able to do anything, let alone fly around controlling a huge metal apparatus.

“You know, most people just walk to the store to restock on _Metamucil_!” Peter shouts as he perches on a rooftop. This gets the old man’s attention.

“Out of my way, insect!” The man’s voice is high pitched and nasally.

“You know, that’s starting to hurt.” Peter pretends to pout. “Spiders aren’t actually insects, so you’re just being rude.”

As he tries to keep the man distracted, Peter keeps swinging, looking around and making sure no one is hurt and there are no bombs or anything that might go off nearby.

The flying man gets bored of Peter’s antics and starts to fly closer to the busy street.

“Where do you guys even _come up_ with these costume ideas? Let me guess… Let me guess… You’re _The Pigeon_?” He continues, worry building up the closer they get to civilians. “Just flying around, crapping on people’s heads?”

“ _Enough_! I am _The Vulture_! And I am going to squash you.” The Vulture comes surging towards Peter, but just above him so that his razor sharp wings cut the web that’s attached to the side of a building.

“Woah!” Peter falls through the sky, but he shoots another string, gluing it to The Vulture’s foot.

“Get off of me, you annoying little…” The added weight of Peter causes The Vulture to descend a little, but they’re flying a few stories above ground still.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish? If you have an evil plan, could you please share it with me so I can stop you quicker?” Peter shouts up to the older man, still dangling from his foot. “I have a whole season of Pretty Little Liars to catch up on.”

“By the time you figure out what we have in store, not even an army could stop us!”

“So there _is_ an evil plan, then?” Peter asks, face scrunching.

That seems to anger the Vulture, and he starts to maneuver quickly in the sky, trying to shake Spider-Man loose. Straightening up, Peter jumps off and lands on a helipad atop a high building and aims both web shooters up. As the man turns around and flies sharply towards him, Peter shoots two thick strands of webbing into the air, weaving them expertly into a net, and the Vulture goes right into it, getting tangled in the sticky substance.

“I have the coppers on speed dial. Your wings are clipped, my friend.” Peter says while The Vulture struggles to get free, but fails terribly.

“Curse you, Spider-Man! You won’t even see what we have coming!”

* * *

_We? Who the heck is “we”?_ Peter thinks to himself as he swings back to Harry’s apartment, for what’s likely for the last time. It’s bad enough that one deranged guy keeps popping up after another, but multiple super-powered criminals at once?

Exhaustion creeps up over him as he nears the building and he’s excited to get back home. Except, now he remember’s MJ is probably really mad at him.

He lands on his windowsill and quietly enters into his room. Looking over to his bed, he sees MJ fast asleep, probably waiting for him. Peter smiles and walks towards her, tucking a strand of hair that’s in her face behind her ear.

There’s a knock on the door and Peter gets a weird feeling about it, as it’s past midnight. Quickly changing into regular clothes, he walks over to the living room to answer it.

When he opens the door, it’s that man from the bus stop.

“Hi there, does MJ Watson live here?” He asks.

It’s all Peter can do to not punch the guy right then and there. He knew there was something off about him the minute he approached MJ on the street.

“Do you even know what time it is? Do you know how rude this is? And how uncool and _creepy_ this is?!” Okay, so he didn’t hold in his temper that well…

“Pete, who is that?” MJ’s voice comes from the hallway.

“Stay in there!” He yells.

“Hey, man, it’s cool, I just wanted to see her, that’s all.” The man says, straining his neck trying to look into the apartment, and Peter pushes the guy away roughly.

“Listen, you either get the hell out of here and never come back, or I’ll call the police and let them deal with you.”

“God, no need to be an asshole… I’ll just see her some other time.” He walks down the steps.

“NO, YOU WON’T.” Peter yells into the night and slams the door behind him.

His heart racing and skin hot with anger, Peter leans his back against the wall, and that’s when he sees MJ’s head poking out of the corridor. He feels terrible for yelling at her.

“Can I come out, now?” She asks, her voice small.

“Come here.” He tells her quietly, and she walks towards him.

He embraces her in his arms and squeezes her tight.

“Do you even know how much you mean to me?” He tells her, kissing the top of her head.

“Still mad at you.” She says with her head on his chest.

Peter lets out a big laugh and despite herself, MJ smiles as well.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry those boxes for you?” Peter asks.

“I’m just fine carrying them myself, thank you,” MJ replies, with a smile. “You can grab the pillows, if you really want to help.”

It’s the day of their move to the ESU dorms, and they’re finishing up loading all of their things into the U-Haul truck they’ve rented to transport their belongings.

MJ is trying not to look around the nearly-empty apartment too much, instead focusing on checking things off of the huge list she’s made in order not to forget anything.

“Did you pack your extra suits?” She turns to Peter, who’s behind her lugging a big, sparkly purple pillow in one arm and a leopard-printed one in the other.

“Yep, they’re in the box I packed my underwear in.”

“What about the one in the washing machine?” MJ lifts an eyebrow.

“There was no suit in the washing-- Crap.” Peter goes to smack his forehead, but gets a face full of the pillow instead. “I’ll be right back.”

As he runs back up to the apartment for his forgotten Spider Suit, MJ loads up more boxes into the vehicle parked outside the building. She has the uneasy feeling of being watched, but when she looks around the street, there’s not one person to be seen, as it is pretty early on a Sunday morning.

_Pull it together, MJ. Don’t let that nutjob get to you._

She sits on the edge of the truck’s trunk compartment, waiting for Peter to get back with the last of their things. She allows herself a sentimental moment as she looks up at the window of Peter’s now former room, their makeshift doorway for a lot of the time they spent here. She remembers the huge fight she had with Peter that had her wondering if they would ever speak again, the movie nights before they were together when she’d spent half the film wanting to lay her head on his lap, and how far they’ve come since then.

There are a lot of memories in this place, and she’s decided to only hold on to the good ones. The bad, the ones that didn’t let her sleep for weeks, the images of exploding glass and a crying, bleeding Harry begging her forgiveness and a monster coming through the window will be left behind here, like an old book no one wants to read anymore.

She has a good thing going in her life right now, and she doesn’t want to taint it.

“Got it!” Peter exclaims, walking out of the building with a light jog, a plastic bag in his hand. “And I also got a pair of underwear of yours that you forgot that were hanging to dry.”

MJ makes an “whoops” face as Peter throws it into the truck and closes the trunk door.

“So, who’s driving?”

“Oh, no, I don’t trust you conducting a vehicle. Or do you not remember the Great Coney Island Incident?” MJ crosses her arms, eyebrows raised.

“That was not my fault! My bumper car was rigged!” Peter cries indignantly.

“You landed on top of Harry’s car! The poor thing was traumatized for years after that!”

The mention of Harry stills the air around them some, but they both pretend not to notice.

“We were teenagers, Red, I promise I’ve gotten better! I don’t run into any buildings when I’m swinging!” Peter replies after a few quiet seconds.

“Not happening,” MJ looks at him, extending her hand so he can give her the keys.

Peter pouts, but relents, and MJ can’t help a victorious “HA!” from coming out, Peter mockingly glaring at her.

They get into their seats in the truck and drive off, not noticing the man staring intently at them from a window across the street.

* * *

The ride is smooth for the most part, with the occasional bump here and there rattling the truck. MJ has always been a good driver, but it doesn’t stop Peter from teasing her.

“Come on, grandma, we don’t have all day.” He says as he looks down at his watch.

“Sorry, but not all of us have weird healing abilities, so excuse me for careful driving this huge hunk of vehicle.” MJ quips, eyes still on the road.

Peter laughs and leans over to kiss her cheek. “I’m still pretty sure that elderly man on the sidewalk there just passed us.”

They arrive to ESU in no time, parking right out front of the dorms. They get their keys from the office, and though their rooms aren’t side by side anymore, they are still pretty close. As they go up the elevator with a couple of boxes, they find they’re just across the hall from each other, one dorm down. They give each other a quick kiss before they enter their new homes to meet their new roommates.

MJ inserts her keys, unlocking the door, and swings it open. She can hear Sex and the City playing loudly from the living room. Walking to the kitchen, MJ places the box she’s carrying down on the counter, and the black haired girl on the couch swivels her head around to look at her.

“Oh! You must be MJ.” The girl nearly yells over the television. “I’m Tracy.” She gets up from the couch and walks to MJ.

They both shake hands and MJ gives a polite smile.

“It was nice of you and the school to give me this room so last minute.” She tells Tracy.

“Oh, it’s no bother at all, my last roomie turned out to be this major druggie that got kicked out and you look pretty normal, so I’m stoked!” The girl walks back to her couch and continues watching her show.

MJ just gives a soft laugh and starts to unpack the contents of her box.

* * *

Remembering that his new roommate is blind, Peter decides to gently knock on his door before opening it so that he doesn’t startle him. The infamous Parker Luck seems to actually on his side for once; having a blind roommate is the next best thing to having MJ for one.

“Hello?” Peter shouts out as he enters the dorm, lugging some of his boxes in.

“Hey.” A deeper voice says, and Peter goes to where it’s coming from.

“Hey, I’m Peter Parker.” He says as he walks towards the other boy.

 _Boy_ doesn’t sound like the right word, though. He must be around Peter’s age, but he has a face full of stubble and looks like he has a lifetime of knowledge behind what Peter can see of his eyes; they’re blocked by dark maroon sunglasses.

“I’m Matt. Matt Murdock.” Matt walks towards Peter to shake his hand, extending it in his general direction, seemingly waiting for Peter to get the cue.

“Oh!” Peter says out loud, extending his hand out the rest of the way and grabs hold of Matt’s.

“So what are you going to school for?” Peter asks as he starts to unpack some of the items in the box.

“Law.”

“I see.” Peter says, then has to refrain from smacking his forehead because of his choice of words.

“I don’t.” Matt says, flashing him a smile.

It eases the tension a bit, and Peter’s happy to know he doesn’t have to walk on eggshells when it comes to his roommate’s disability.

“Hey, are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks as Peter resumes his unpacking. “I just finished this huge paper I’ve been working on for weeks and I was going to get myself a pizza to celebrate, but I can’t finish one alone.”

Moving his things around all day is exhausting, and Peter’s stomach rumbles at the mention of food. He thinks that MJ will probably want to stay in tonight as well to tidy her things up and meet her own roommate, so he grabs his phone to send her a message.

_Hey Red_

_Gonna stay in tonight, new roommate seems cool and we’re getting pizza_

_Talk tomorrow? <3_

He puts his phone back in his jeans pocket and turns to Matt.

“Pizza sounds awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

“Are you ready, young padawan?” Peter asks as he rotates his wrists.

MJ stands in front of him with her arms folded across her chest, staring at Peter with the blankest of expressions.

Peter has rented out one of the ESU gyms so they can start MJ’s one-on-one “personal defense class,” and today is their first lesson.

“I like those yoga pants on you.” Peter says as he gets into position.

“ _Focus_ , Peter.” MJ imitates the same stance.

“Right. So. We still start off with the basics.” Peter walks closer to MJ.

“We’ll go with this first move. Same side reach peel. If somebody were to come in front of you and grab you--” Peter takes MJ’s hand and puts it on his shoulder to imply she is the attacker. “You’re going to grab their hand that’s on you,” he grabs MJ’s hand, “around the thumb, bend the wrist back to the opponent and down to the ground.”

Peter twists MJ’s arm delicately, but she can feel herself instantly coil over.

“Then when you have them in this position, you knee them in the face like this.” He lifts his knee up near MJ’s head to demonstrate.

“Makes sense?” He asks, letting go of MJ so she can stand up again.

MJ just nods in shock. Being here now makes her realize how necessary it is to learn these things.

“Alright, the next one is if the attacker comes from behind. The bear hug.” Peter turns his back to MJ. “Grab me, and I’ll show you what to do.”

MJ steps forward and reaches both of her arms around Peter, holding him in an embrace from behind.

“You step to the outside with your outer foot,” his foot goes right from their stance, “then with the opposite leg you stepped to the side from, you go the same direction, but wrap it around their legs. That’s going to knock them off balance.”

His inner leg wraps around the outer side of MJ’s, and she feels herself losing her barings.

“Bend over, bringing your elbows up and go straight up to their face,” he motions this with his own elbows, “and completely knock them down this time.” He does so again, demonstrating delicately, and MJ goes to fall to the ground, but Peter quickly grabs her arms so she softly lays down.

“Those two sound okay to you?” He asks. There’s something in his eyes that looks hungry and defensive. Like he _needs_ MJ to understand this.

“Yeah, I think I got it.” MJ answers as Peter helps her up.

“Do you think you can try it out on me now?” Peter asks, still holding her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles affectionately.

“Yep. I think so.” MJ responds while getting into the stance.  
The both of them go back and forth between the moves a few times so that it feels like second nature to MJ, instead of her counting the correct steps in her head. Peter teaches her a new move after she does the previous move at least a dozen times, mastering it to the best of her abilities.

She manages to knock Peter over a few times too, looking smug while doing so. He looks thrilled when she does as well, encouraging her to keep going and holding back on his superhuman strength less and less, wanting MJ to really know what it feels like to go against someone stronger than her, and still be able to get away unharmed.

He still has to hold back quite a bit though, the whole proportional-strength-of-a-spider-thing could leave MJ with her arms ripped off, but he has learned to master the strength of a normal human being after a lot of effort and practice.

All of the training has MJ winded in no time, and she thinks joining a gym would probably help her be better at this whole self-defense thing. The thought of it makes her laugh humourlessly, though; she has barely enough hours in a day to even sleep with how busy her life is.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, she steps back, dropping her arms to her sides and asks if they can wrap it up for the day. Peter immediately looks concerned, looking over at MJ’s body to find any injuries, and she laughs it off fondly.

“It’s just a lot to take in for a first class, that’s all.” She says, “I think my brain is gonna melt. Not to mention my muscles are crying.”

Peter’s expression isn’t faltering, though.

“Seriously, Pete, this is some good stuff. If I’d known any of this when I got jumped, I would’ve kicked their ass.”

This definitely doesn’t ease Peter, and just reminds him of what happened to her, his body going rigid.

“EARTH TO PETER, get out of your damned head! This is a good thing.” She moves closer to him and hugs him tightly.

“I just worry.” He says, voice muffled in her hair.

“ _Noooo_ , since when?!” She asks, the question dripping in sarcasm.

MJ steps back from the hug only slightly to plant a quick kiss on Peter’s lips, scrunching her nose adorably afterwards.

“Okay, we both need a shower,” she states matter-of-factly. “Especially you.”

“Hey!”

MJ throws a towel at him, and Peter easily catches it, and his eyes suddenly twinkle with mischief.

Turning around, Peter pretends to head for the corner of the room where he left his backpack, and when he’s sure MJ isn’t looking, he charges towards her, arms extended in front of him, fingers wiggling around. Before she can notice what’s happening, Peter grabs her waist from behind and starts tickling her mercilessly, MJ immediately dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“So you think I’m smelly, huh?” He says over the sound of MJ’s laughter.

“P-Pete, stop!” She gets out between giggles, not really making any moves to push him away.

“Say ‘uncle’!”

“Never!” MJ shouts, which just makes him tickle her even more.

* * *

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day, Miss Watson?” Peter asks MJ as they exit the gym.

“Nothing really planned, what about you, Peter Parker?”

“I was about to do some patrolling. Want to come with?” He asks, grabbing her hand as they walk down the street. “Only if you remember our deal.”

“Yes, yes, as soon as anything even remotely goes south I’ll get far, far away. Let’s go!” She gets excited, nearly hopping up and down, and Peter starts to laugh.

“Okay, okay, come on.” He leads her down a secluded alleyway, taking off his hoodie and pants behind a dumpster to reveal his suit.

MJ rummages in his backpack to give him his mask, and he puts it on, giving MJ butterflies. She’s not sure if she will ever get used to the fact that her boyfriend is _Spider-Man_.

She gathers his street clothes, stuffing them in the pack and zipping it up, and Peter straps it onto his back.

“Ready?” He wraps his arms familiarly around her waist.

“Ready.”

They swing effortlessly through the air, MJ’s hair flying back away from her face, the familiar feeling of the wind on her skin.

She nuzzles her head onto Peter’s shoulder as they swing from building to building. It’s such an intimate feeling, knowing that they’ve only ever done this with each other, and she can feel her face go a bit red at the thought.

After a few minutes of flying around, Peter spots a disturbance in a corner store, what appears to be a robbery.

Setting them both down a couple of streets away, Peter turns to MJ.

“Remember our deal, okay? Anything gets bad, you run.” He says, looking at her through his mask. “You got your panic button?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” MJ says jokingly, and leans forward to kiss him lightly. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Peter swings to the burglary scene, and MJ takes her cell phone to start recording what she sees, excited to be able to be out looking for real things to report for the Bugle.

* * *

Peter lands on the sidewalk right near the building, and before walking into it, he sees his new roommate, Matt, heading into the store.

 _Oh God_ …

“Uh… I wouldn’t go in there, it’s currently--”

“Peter?” Matt asks, looking to his general direction.

“What?!” Peter blurts out, but then coughs and lowers his voice. “It’s just me... Spider-Man. I would… I would turn around and go back.”

Matt’s face goes stiff, but then relaxes a little.

“Well, as long as you have it covered Mr. eh… Spider-Man, is it?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“That’s the name, pal!” Peter replies, gently putting his hand on Matt’s back to guide him away from the store. “Now you be careful walking around this neighborhood when it starts getting dark.”

“I can’t really tell the difference between day and night, but thanks anyway,” Matt says, making his way back from where he came.

“ _Phew_! That was close...” Peter says to himself as he turns around and goes into the shop.

Once he sees the crooks, two small-time losers who don’t actually pose a threat, he speaks again, but louder.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s not nice to take what’s not yours?!”

From the outside, MJ is describing the scene onto her phone’s voice recording app, so focused that she doesn’t notice the man who once asked her for an autograph outside of her former apartment approaching her from behind.

His eyes wild, sweat nervously dripping down underneath his ill-fitting shirt, he’s mere meters from her when, seemingly out of nowhere, another man appears in front of her just in time, thwarting his moves.

“Excuse me,” the other man asks out loud. “I’m sorry to bother you, but you wouldn’t happen to know the way to the ESU dorms, would you? I seem to have lost my way.”

MJ is slightly startled, but her eyes soften when she sees the voice is coming from a guy not much older than her, wearing sunglasses and holding a cane.

“Oh! Gosh, yeah, absolutely!” She replies, looking towards the store a couple of streets down. The fight seems to have pretty much ended, so MJ stops her recording and opens her messaging app to send Peter a text, letting him know she’ll be heading back, and that everything is fine.

“Are you a student?” She asks, putting her phone back in her pocket and extending her arm so the man can take it. Remembering that he can’t tell what she’s just done, she lightly takes his hand and places it on her elbow, and he gently grabs hold of it.

“I am, yes,” the guy says. “I should’ve been better at walking around by now, but I guess not.”

MJ smiles at him warmly, and they both start walking back to the dorms. As they cross the street, the blind man turns his head towards MJ’s fan as if warning him not to try and follow them.

“I’m MJ, by the way.”

“I’m Matt.”

“Wait, you’re Peter’s roommate?” MJ asks, remembering that Peter has a blind roommate named Matt (how many could there be?).

“Yeah.” Matt replies, the mention of Peter making him think. “I’m so glad that I actually have a cool roommate this year.” He laughs afterwards. “How do you know Peter?”

“I-- I’m his girlfriend.” Now that MJ thinks about it, Matt is the first person to know that outside of her and Peter. It makes it so much realer admitting it out loud.

“Now tell me how that goof get someone so nice and pretty like you? I need to take some notes.” Matt jokes, making MJ laugh.

“How would you know?” MJ asks, not believing him in the slightest.

“I have my ways.”

They’re just outside of ESU when they hear some footsteps running behind them. Matt stiffens, and MJ assumes it’s because he doesn’t like people sneaking up on him, but when MJ turns around she just sees Peter.

“Hey guys!” He says a little out of breath.

“Hey, Pete. Just met your roommate here. He’s quite charming.” MJ says as she softly nudges Matt with her elbow.

“Yeah, you say that because you haven’t seen him devour a whole slice of pizza in one bite.” Peter jokes.

“Can’t be worse than how you eat; it’s like it’ll be your last bite of food for the rest of your life.”

Matt lets out a laugh. “That’s so true!” He pokes Peter with his cane. “So where’d you come from Peter?” He listens intently.

“Uh…” Peter’s eyes widen a little and he looks at MJ.

“I left something at our old apartment and I asked him to pick it up for me.” MJ swoops in.

Matt stays silent for a moment, head slightly tilted before replying.

“Moving sure sucks.”

The three of them wordlessly make their way back to the dorms, Peter and MJ exchanging glances over Matt’s shoulders, wondering to each other if their newest friend bought their lame story.

“Well, I better go in. I have an article that isn’t gonna write itself waiting for me.” MJ says, once they reach the boys’ door.

“Oh, you’re a writer?” Matt asks, waiting for Peter to unlock their door.

“Yep, and she’s gonna win the Pulitzer Prize one day.” Peter adds excitedly, making MJ blush and roll her eyes fondly at him.

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to read me some of your writing,” Matt nods as he enters the apartment, clearly to give Peter and MJ some privacy. “I’m gonna turn in, guys. Good night, and thanks for walking me home.”

* * *

“Do we _have_ to listen to that god-awful mopey music?” MJ’s roommate pops her head out of her room and asks Peter, who is listening to one of his favourite bands through his laptop as MJ makes dinner. “Makes me want to literally die.”

MJ laughs out loud, because she isn’t very fond of his choice of music, either.

“Literally die, Tracy? _Literally_? I’ll have you know, The Shins are renowned artists.” He scoffs at MJ and Tracy.

“ _I_ haven’t heard of him.” She tries to make a point.

“That’s because he isn’t on the Top 30, Tracy.” He says as he takes a sip from his beer.

“Well, _sorry_ mister hipper-than-you.” Tracy pouts as she walks to the table to join him.

“I hope you like your spaghetti burnt” MJ states, fully aware that she’s still not the best at cooking.

“How is that even… _possible_?” Peter looks at her, shocked and impressed at the same time.

“Do _you_ want to cook?” MJ glances at him, eyes all but shooting lazers.

“I’ll have mine _extra_ burnt if you could possibly, my dear.” He has the biggest grin plastered on his face.

Tracy rolls her eyes and makes an exaggerated disgusted face at them.

“Hey, we agreed you two wouldn’t be all… _couply_ when I’m around, so cut it out.” She tells them sternly. “I do not need another reminder that you’ve found love and I am destined to die alone.”

MJ chortles at her dramatics, and Peter reaches for the dish towel that’s on MJ’s shoulder to throw it on Tracy’s head.

“You sure you’re not a theatre major, Trace? You have the talent for it.”

Tracey scoffs at him and grabs his laptop to turn it around to face her, making Peter freeze.

“I need to change this music, like, now.” She explains.

Peter’s formula for his Web Fluid is on the screen in front of her, and MJ stares at him, wondering what he’s gotten so rigid about.

“Uh, what even is this? You’re such a nerd, Peter. Like, MJ, when you introduced us I understood why you’re with him, cause like, he’s dreamy and stuff, I’ll give you that, but honestly is this even English? You’re so weird…” Tracy says as she switches to iTunes to look through his library of music.

Peter relaxes, thankful that she couldn’t decipher any of the formula.

“I don’t know any of these artists…” She says as she scrolls through.

MJ places two bowls of spaghetti in front of her roommate and boyfriend.

“God, just eat, you two.” MJ says as she mutes the music.

Grabbing her own bowl, she joins them at the dinner table.

The three of them start eating in comfortable silence, but it’s only a minute until Tracy gets up to turn on the TV just to have some background noise. When she sits back down, she turns to Peter.

“But seriously, though, what’s the 411 on your roomie, Parker? I heard no one wanted to bunk up with him. Is he really that bad?”

“He’s actually pretty cool,” Peter says through too-big mouthfuls of pasta, getting tomato sauce all over his face. “Dunno him very well, though, but he’s nice and he keeps to himself, so that’s a bonus.”

“And he’s not bad on the eyes, either.” MJ says playfully, handing Peter a napkin.

“Hey! I’m right here, you know.”

She blows him a kiss, and Tracy smiles despite herself.

“You should _totes_ hook us up, Pete!” She says excitedly, but he waves her off, knowing she says these things just for fun.

MJ looks fondly at her boyfriend and her new roommate. It’s a strange place to be after so much struggling, but she’s wholeheartedly happy, and can finally admit it to herself without fear of somehow ruining it, or of not being good enough to deserve it.

“Got to say, Mary Jane, you’ve made spaghetti both soggy and hard at the same time. That’s quite the feat.” Peter says as he takes another forkfull.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?” She says in a threatening voice.

“Of course no--” Peter begins to answer, but freezes again, this time not because of Tracy.

Tracy raises an eyebrow at Peter’s sudden mood change.

“Woah, did you, like, legit scare him?” She asks MJ.

MJ furrows her brow, just about to ask him what’s wrong when a live broadcast of Manhattan displays on the TV.

“Breaking News, the mechanically altered man better known as Doctor Octopus is currently moving through Midtown, authorities are advising citizens not to leave their homes.” The reporter says through the television.

“Oh, shit!” Tracy blurts out, sauce flying everywhere.

“Excuse me, I need to make sure my aunt will be okay.” Peter says as he gets up from the table, kissing MJ on the forehead. “Thanks for dinner, babe.” He starts to walk to the door, but MJ gets up as well.

“Be right back, Trace.” She says as she follows Peter out of her dorm and into his.

Once they enter his room, MJ looks around, making sure Matt isn’t home before she speaks.

“I’m coming with you.” She states matter-of-factly.

“No. You’re not.” Peter tells her as he rummages through his closet for his suit.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you told me that after our first lesson you would take me along. Honestly, if you don’t, I’ll just go on my own and that will probably be less safe. I’m a journalist. You need to get used to me being there.”

Peter stops with his shirt in his hands, staring at her, very unimpressed. He pulls the top half of his Spider-Man suit over his head before he answers.

“Fine. You leave as _SOON_ as it gets bad.”

“YES!” MJ quickly runs to her dorm to get a jacket and her phone, telling Tracy she’s going to go with Peter to make sure May is okay.

“You do know you’re not supposed to leave the house, right…?” Tracy tells her, still eating her spaghetti.

“I won’t be long.” MJ reassures and makes her way to Peter’s dorm again.

She enters without knocking, and sees Peter waiting at the windowsill for her in his suit. Locking the door behind her, she runs to Peter and flings her arms over his neck, and he swings them out into the night sky.

Arriving at the scene, Peter doesn’t even have time to remind MJ once again that she needs to run as soon as anything threatens to go badly, because Doctor Octopus is grabbing civilians and throwing them out of his way.

As soon as Peter hits the ground, MJ untangles herself from him and runs to find a spot from where she can still see the fight, but not recklessly put herself in unnecessary danger.

Peter catches and makes web nets for all of the people the mad man is tossing around, trying to make jokes so they won’t be too panicked, as there are several children amongst them. Looking over his shoulder, Peter can see a primary school a couple of blocks away where there was clearly some sort of assembly happening. Thinking fast, he makes another web net, but this time big enough to block the entire street so no one else can walk towards the fight.

“Didn’t I beat you already?” Peter asks the man. “Or was it another mechanically altered creep? It’s hard to keep track of you guys sometimes.”

“Ah, Spider-Man, I’m glad you could join me.” He uses his long metal limbs to turn around and face Peter. “I just wanted to let you know, though you killed the Green Goblin, that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to follow through with our plan.”

_People think I killed him… Great._

“And what plan is that, tentacles?” Peter asks, a bit nervous, but not letting it show.

“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise, and where would the fun be in that? Not that you’ll be here to witness it; it would be very irritating if you interfered in any way, so I must destroy you now.”

He ends his sentence by charging towards Peter on his four metal arms, towering above the cars and most of the two-story buildings around.

A metal claw connects with Peter’s head and lifts him from the ground, his body dangling beneath. Peter grips his hands on 2 out of 3 of the metal prongs and rips them apart with all his strength. It’s just enough to loosen a bit so he can get free.

Peter effortlessly lunges himself in the air, crouching on top of the man, looking at his back to see if he could shut down these mechanical arms at all. He can’t see anything right away, but before he can take a thorough look, Doctor Octopus grabs Peter’s shoulder and flings him off, his body colliding with a building.

From a nearby alleyway, MJ watches closely, recording what she can on her phone, and directing random people unknowingly walking by away from the scene. Her stomach sinks when she sees Peter connect with the concrete. It’s a lot more difficult to remain focused knowing the love of her life is out there.

As she raises her phone once again to capture the fight, something in the corner of her phone’s screen catches her eye. Lowering her hand, she sees a lost old woman hiding amongst the debris, looking utterly terrified.

She knows Spider-Man doesn’t have the upper hand yet, and that running across the street would be madness; Doctor Octopus would spot her in a second. And she promised Peter she wouldn’t be irresponsible...

Guilt creeping up inside of her, with pure disgust in herself, she ignores the scene, focusing back on the fight, describing exactly what she sees into the speaker.

A few seconds go by and MJ’s eyes unwillingly go to the woman again, but this time she can see part of a building crumbling above, and before she realizes what’s happening, MJ is dashing towards her.

Almost immediately, the fight around her silences, and she can tell something’s wrong.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Doctor Octopus’ voice echoes in the air. “Brought yourself a little sidekick, did you, Wall Crawler?”

“Are you _kidding_ me? _GET OUT OF HERE_!” Peter yells, hoping MJ can hear him, already moving quickly in her direction.

Her feet don’t give up until she’s next to the elderly woman, though, grabbing her and lunging out of the way while the concrete falls down, mere inches next to them, opening up a crater on the sidewalk.

The lady MJ just saved is weeping next to her, steadying herself on a nearby hydrant, and MJ has to remind herself to breathe, her head spinning. By the time she snaps back to the present, Peter is next to her, nearly carrying her out of the fight.

“ _No_! No, take her!” MJ yells, reaching for the woman’s hand; feeling the trembling, she can’t quite tell which one of them has the shakiest hands.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Peter says, incredulous.

MJ feels something catch her around the waist and lift her up in the air, knocking the breath out of her. Looking down at her stomach, she realizes that a metal tentacle has her, and her heart sinks.

She is so incredibly _over_ being taken by insane super villains that, for a moment, she just wants to laugh. Not the nervous kind of laughter that springs up unannounced when you’ve caught yourself saying something embarrassing. No, this one is something else entirely, made up of fear, and keenness and weariness; she is fed up and just can’t bottle up her anger any more. It bubbles up and overflows.

She starts to scream at the top of her lungs, kicking and struggling, and eventually her foot connects with Doctor Octopus’ head. This stuns him for a moment, and that’s Peter’s cue to come lunging forward, his fist bashing against the man’s skull.

“LET HER GO!” Peter’s voice is frenzied, his fists ceaselessly hitting Doc Ock’s head, over and over again until the sound of cracking bones seem to silence the city around them.

MJ has witnessed enough of Spider-Man’s fights to know that Peter never gives it his all. The strength and power that course through his body would be enough to obliterate most things, super-human or machine, and his mind is heavy enough without the added weight of deaths by his own hand.

She’s noticed it with her, too. The soft touch of his hand holding hers, or the way he turns the knob to open a door are a little more strained than they could be; he holds back his might, endlessly worried about ruining things or hurting people.

But this is different. The fabric on Peter’s gloves are ripped and shredded, pale skin and bruised knuckles glowing red with blood beneath. He isn’t holding back anymore.

The giant metal arms try to fight back, sneaking up from behind or from the sides, but are each time defeated, Peter barely sparing a look at them before webbing them still, or hitting them until short-circuit sounds spring up. Before long, the only tentacle left is the one holding MJ up.

Around the pile of city wreckage, Peter continuously bashes his broken fists on Doc Ock’s face, who isn’t hitting back. Finally, the man drops to the ground, the metal contraption releasing MJ’s waist.

But even so, and not seeming to notice MJ is free, Peter doesn’t let up, punching through his out-of-breathness and glossy eyes, beyond redemption.

“Spider-Man…” MJ says softly, but he doesn’t stop.

Doctor Octopus’ face looks unrecognizable, nothing more than a pile of bloodied meat, dripping fluid and clot everywhere, and Peter is still pounding on it in a rampage.

“ _SPIDER-MAN_!” MJ yells, placing her hand on his shoulder.

The touch makes Peter swivel towards back to stare at her. She doesn’t need to see his eyes in order to know how wild he looks, his still clenched fists and strained muscles telling her plenty. It scares her.

They look at each other for about a minute, Peter’s chest rising and falling, breathing quickly as if there isn’t enough air to take in. MJ moves slowly, unsure of what to do, and ends up wrapping her arms around him despite herself, and he drops to his knees, holding onto her tightly.

The sound of sirens get closer and louder, the NYPD not far away.

“Come on… Let’s go home.” She whispers in his ear.

He just nods his head weakly, and MJ helps him stand up. Grabbing her waist delicately, he releases his webbing and they fly up into the sky, the police starting to round up on Doc Ock’s unresponsive body.

They swing together in silence, MJ nuzzling her head into Peter’s neck. She knows that it’s her fault that he snapped so violently. With the history he has of losing those he loves, the possibility of losing her must have triggered something inside of him that uncaged a wild animal. MJ feels guilty, but knows she did the right thing. She was the only one who could help the poor woman; the responsibility to aid those in need doesn’t fall solely on heroes’ shoulders.

Peter releases one webbing after another, and MJ looks up at him, starting to softly kiss his jawline. Small, gentle touches just to calm him down, and she can feel him relax slightly.

Landing on Peter’s dorm’s balcony, she peers into the window to make sure Matt is asleep, only as a precaution; it’s not like he could see the Spider-Man suit, anyway. There seems to be no one shuffling around, and the lights are all mostly off, so she figures Peter’s roommate is either sleeping, or not in at all.

Opening the living room’s window, they both crawl inside, and Peter wordlessly heads straight to his bedroom. MJ stands there for a moment in silence, taking a deep breath for the first time tonight. The way Peter lost all control really frightened her. She knows that he would never turn that rage on her, but his recklessness tonight could have hurt _him_ , or worse...

Once she has regained some composure, she quickly goes to the washroom and reaches for a washcloth. As she dampens it, she looks at her reflection in the mirror and her skin looks pale, some of the colour on her face only now starting to come back. Turning off the tap, she walks out.

When she enters his bedroom, Peter is sitting on the edge of his mattress, his mask and shirt taken off and discarded on the floor, revealing a swollen lip and his bloodied up knuckles.

Her breath catches in her throat, the vision of him in this state churning her stomach. Walking to him, she kneels down on the floor, and they’re eye to eye.

The warm, wet cloth in her grip feels soft, and she starts to reverently wipe away the evidence of tonight off of Peter’s hands, the careful strokes a soothing balm across the calloused skin.

“I’m sor--”

“ _Shhh_.” MJ cuts him off. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Peter.” She says softly, still wiping the blood away from his skin.

There’s a pause before he speaks again. “He said _they_ have something bigger planned.”

MJ wants to take this in for a moment, knows the information is important, but her immediate priority is to get the weight of Spider-Man off his shoulders just for awhile.

Standing up, still in front of him, one of her hands goes to cup the side of his face, her thumb softly rubbing against his cheek.

“We can worry about that tomorrow.” she whispers, and Peter’s head rests on her stomach, her arms wrapping protectively around him.

They remain in this position for some time, MJ soothingly running her fingers through his hair. She almost thinks that Peter has fallen asleep like this, but then he leans back a little to look up at her, his eyes hungry and intense.

“I love you so much, Mary Jane Watson. I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life.” His voice is deep, unwavering.

She bends down to place a light kiss on his lips, but something shifts between them, a yearning that won’t ever quite be quenched, and it’s impossible to tell who deepens the kiss first.

Peter’s hands find their way to MJ’s waist, slightly tugging her forward to sit comfortably on his lap, not breaking the kiss for longer than a second’s breath.

MJ’s hands wander across Peter’s bare skin almost instinctively, on his torso, down his sides, around to his back. Pulling her lips apart from his for a moment, she looks at him, her eyes reflecting the hunger in his.

Leaning in for another kiss, Peter wraps his arms tightly around MJ’s waist, bringing her closer, and her skin feels on fire.

They move together honey-slow, taking their time to learn what touches makes the other arch up, safe in the knowledge that they are freer than ever in each other’s arms.

When Peter’s hands move from tracing MJ’s collarbone to the buttons of her jeans, he pauses their kissing, lips going to her ear.

“Can I?” he whispers, and the sound of his voice alone, deep and dripping with want, makes MJ breathless, his kisses behind her ear overwhelming.

“Anything, anything.” she manages to get out, hands tightening up in Peter’s hair in anticipation.

Undoing the buttons, his hand reaches down further and finds her already wet for him, and Peter groans, pleased.

He moves his hand teasingly, and MJ can’t help but roll her hips against it, desperate for more friction.

Before she can get too far, Peter wraps both of his arms around MJ again to lift her up slightly to turn around and lay her down on his bed, immediately removing MJ’s jeans and throwing them across the room, too focused on her to even look away.

He kneels between her legs and just stares at her for a moment, gently caressing her thighs. If this was anyone else, the attention would make MJ feel self-conscious, but not now. There’s no room for awkwardness when something feels so right. Peter’s eyes on her only serve to fuel her further, knowing the passion behind them.

When he does move, Peter’s hands come to rest on each side of MJ’s waist, and she breathes deep, skin tingling.

Lifting her shirt up slowly as he leans down to kiss her stomach, he moves his legs under him, so he can position himself at the end of the mattress.

Now with his elbows supporting him, he trails his hot, open-mouthed kisses further down, and one of MJ’s hands raises to tangle in his hair while the other grabs a fistfull of the sheets she’s lying on.

Peter finds MJ’s wetness with a sigh, and his hands come to steady her hips, which move involuntarily closer to him.

She opens her eyes and looks down at him, and the way his nails dig into her skin, as though this feels as good to him as it does her, draws a broken moan from her lips, which Peter reciprocates, and the vibrations make her shiver.

It’s nothing MJ has ever felt before; being able to be completely free and unabashed with someone else, finally in the moment completely, with no need for deflection or pretending. It’s addicting, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to do without it.

Calling his name, MJ urges Peter up, unable to wait any longer. She helps him remove the remainder of his suit, and kisses him until she can taste copper on her tongue from his split lip.

“Do you have..?” MJ begins.

“Oh-- Yes!” Peter gets up, not before giving MJ another deep kiss, and goes to his bedside table to retrieve a box of condoms.

He shakes the box and smiles at her sheepishly.

“Wishful thinking.” He says while scratching his head with his other hand.

MJ bites her lips and laughs softly. Moving across the bed, she grabs the box, sitting in front of him and collecting one.

“Want me to?” She asks, looking up at him while tearing the packet.

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, I do.” His voice is deep, and he clears his throat.

She takes the latex out, trying to remember how to do this from Sex Ed class. The funny thing is though, MJ isn’t nervous this time around. This is how it should be.

Taking the condom, she rolls it down onto Peter, and he freezes at her touch.

Making sure it’s secure and on properly, her hands linger and she looks up at Peter.

He takes one more deep breath and grabs MJ’s face in his hands, too impatient to wait another second.

Laying back down, he hovers on top of her and she wraps her legs around the small of his back. Peter guides himself inside of her, and their puzzle is finally complete. Their fit is perfect, as if one is nothing but an extension of the other.

As they settle into a lazy rhythm, Peter lets his head rest on the crook of MJ’s neck, while her hands trace patterns on his back.

With his every moan, MJ feels closer and closer to the edge; knowing that she’s the one making his breaths so shallow, and his skin so hot is a drug that she’ll never have enough of.

She calls his name again, no more than a whisper, and that seems to light something in him that she’s never seen before.

Peter lifts his head and looks into her eyes, then down her body to where they’re tangled, and a curse escapes him, fire-hot and helpless, and when he kisses her again, she knows that Peter was and will always be the only one for her.

Sliding his hand down her body, finding the area that leaves MJ nearly paralyzed at his touch, he speeds up the beat of his hips, matching the rhythm of his hand, egging MJ on to finish with him.

It isn’t long until the both of them are gasping for breath, their muscles tightening around each other, the pleasure that had been building up for seemingly forever finally exploding, overwhelming them.

They remain in their same position for a moment after, Peter still inside of MJ, panting until their heartbeats steady some. A few seconds later, Peter loosens his elbows, flopping on top of her so she’s supporting all of his weight.

“I couldn’t breathe before in the _good_ sense, but now I really can’t.” MJ says breathlessly in his ear.

He snickers and rolls off of her, lying on his back beside her, and MJ can’t help but watch his chest rise and fall.

“You, uhh… You’re real good at that.” She tells him, and he turns his head to look at her.

“I’ve never really experienced _that_ before.” He says with a smile, and they both start laughing. It was otherworldly and intense and MJ makes the connection that Peter is the only person who has ever broken down her walls completely, making her feel unapologetically herself.

Lying there next to this boy, it seems all of their worries vanish into thin air.

Peter rolls onto his side and nuzzles his face into MJ’s neck, kissing it softly.

“Do you want to spend the night?” He whispers.

MJ rolls onto her side as well, facing Peter. Her hands reaching up to his face, kissing the boy she loves more than anything.

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Graphic Description of Violence / Sexual Content
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

“Can you tell him that I _don’t_ look like Pee-wee Herman?!” Peter begs MJ as he perks up on the sofa, but she is nearly laughing to the point of tears.

“I just have you pegged for a Pee-wee Herman, why are you trying to ruin a blind man’s image of you?” Matt says with a smirk as he reaches for the popcorn bowl.

“I’m trying to finish my Bugle article, don’t drag me into this.” MJ pretends to start typing on her laptop.

“Come _on_!” Peter dramatically lies down, his head on her lap, over her laptop.

“This is due in an hour, you brat. You’re the one who picked this lame documentary to watch, now watch it!” MJ teases. She won’t admit she finds the program on dinosaurs a little interesting, too.

Peter sits up from MJ’s lap and turns to Matt. “This isn’t over.” He whispers, reaching for the popcorn, too.

* * *

"Done!” MJ breathes out and she hits the last key on her keyboard. “I should probably head to the Bugle to hand this article in.”

“I’ll come, too. I’ve got some pictures of Spidey I need to cash in.” Peter mentions, getting up from the couch. “Talk to you tonight, Matt.”

“Later, Pete.”

They walk out the door and make their way to the transit stop to get on the bus that goes into the city, MJ immediately looking around and over her shoulders almost as a reflex.

She can’t help but feel like she’s being watched lately. She has never been this paranoid, even when she first moved to the city, or after her encounter with those men who jumped her, but she just can’t shake the feeling now.

Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, or mention it to Peter so he has yet another thing to worry about, she keeps it to herself and reaches for his hand to hold.

They arrive at their stop and walk the the rest of the way to the building. Once they enter the Bugle’s lobby, they move towards to elevator, and MJ feels somebody bump into her.

“Oof! Sorry--” MJ begins, looking to the muscular blonde man who steadied himself easily, his face looking familiar.

“You’re MJ, right?” He puts his hand on MJ’s shoulder to help her regain her bearings.

“Yeah. Oh, you’re! You’re-- you… Crap, I forgot. I’m sorry.” She tries to rack her brain to think of a name.

“Eddie. We met at one of the Bugle’s galas. It’s nice to bump into you again-- literally.”

MJ gives a friendly laugh. “Ha, ha. Yeah.”

“Would you like to grab some coffee sometime?” He asks, not taking his eyes from hers.

Peter clears his throat and it’s the first time it seems like Eddie notices Peter’s presence.

“Oh, I have-- This is Peter, my boyfriend.” MJ points her thumb towards him.

“Of course, nice to meet you.” Eddie extends his hand, and they give a firm shake.

“It can be a platonic coffee date, share tips and pointers on articles.” Eddie puts his attention back to MJ.

She feels Peter tense up next to her, so she reaches down to take his hand in hers to ease him before addressing Eddie again.

“We should really be getting these to Jameson, you know how he gets,” MJ starts, not wanting to sound harsh. “But I’ll see you around, okay?”

She leads Peter further into the offices, leaving a staring Eddie behind.

“Who the heck was that guy?” Peter asks, neck straining to look back at the smug man.

“Eddie, I guess.” MJ answers, feeling uncomfortable and Peter raises an eyebrow. “Don’t start, you goof. You met him at the gala, too. It’s _nothing_ , let’s just get this meeting over with.”

Jameson waves them into his office with one hand, as the other is busy holding his phone, into which he’s screaming some colourful words. Peter and MJ tentatively walk in despite the uncomfortable aura.

Unsure of whether to sit down or not, both stand awkwardly next to each other as JJJ keeps up his conversation. It’s not until Robbie, Jameson’s right-hand man and also an editor at the Bugle, comes into the office that he hangs up.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” He mocks loudly. “I was starting to wonder if you still worked for me at all!”

Reaching his hand forward impatiently, he’s given the USB port containing MJ’s and Peter’s work and immediately puts them into his computer to take a look.

“Never mind him,” Robbie addresses the couple. “Sales have taken a dive over the last trimester, everyone’s a little on edge around here.”

“You two couldn’t come up with anything better?” Jameson speaks over his cigar, pointing at his screen.

He doesn’t let anyone speak before he talks again, this time to Robbie.

“Get that kid in here, I need to see how much the sales are going to affect our stock.”

Robbie turns around to leave, putting a sympathetic hand on Peter’s shoulder, and a minute later a familiar voice fills the room, its owner stopping right next to MJ.

“And so we meet again,” the blonde from earlier purrs. “Maybe this is fate.”

_Eddie._

“Hello!” Jameson calls their attention. “This is a private meeting, you two are free to go any time, now.”

As they’re both dying to get out of there, MJ and Peter don’t wait another second to walk out, and a relieved laugh escapes them both.

“Well, that was fun.” MJ says as they stop by Betty’s desk to collect their paychecks.

* * *

“So, I just got the call before we left for the Bugle, and I wanted to wait until everything was less hectic, but guess what?” Peter says excitedly as they choose where to sit in a coffee shop once they’ve received their drinks.

“What…?” MJ asks, raising an eyebrow and cupping her hands around her warm drink.

“I’ve been accepted to work with Doctor Connors!” A big grin appears on his face, and he can’t even wait for MJ’s response before he continues. “It’s just for this semester, he has this internship program and every year his people scout the nearby universities looking for the best students in each field; only a couple of people got picked. But I’ll get my own lab and everything!”

“ _Shut up_. Pete! That’s amazing!” MJ exclaims as she leans over to give him a kiss.

Their lips meet and linger on each other, both bent over the table. MJ separates it after a bit, wanting to hear more of the big news.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what we’ll be working on; something to do with my field, but I am excited. I wish Uncle Ben could’ve seen this. He was always pushing me to not give up, even when I got picked on for being into science.”

This makes MJ’s heart hurt a little. She saw first-handedly what he had to deal with in school; and she’s so proud that all of it was worth it in the end.

“I know for a fact that he’d be very proud of you. I know I am. You’ve got to tell May!” MJ says as she pushes her phone towards him, and he laughs.

“I will in a bit, I just want to celebrate with you right now.” He grabs her hand instead of the phone, rubbing his thumb across her skin.

“It’s going to be tricky, juggling school work, Bugle, Connors and… Your other job.” She says biting her lip, seeing his face deflate a little. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, is that Peter Parker can make it work. And I’ll help in any way I can.”

He perks up again. “Yeah, hey, you wouldn’t mind battling The Rhino for me, would you? I got stuck in the lab late… That would help loads, thanks, MJ.” He teases, and MJ punches him in the arm, looking around to make sure nobody overheard.

“The good news is that most of my school work will be involved with this internship. And I may take you up on your help, having you deliver my photos to the Bugle for me. I really think I can do this, MJ.” She can see his hopeful smile and his eyes light up, and it gives her the good twists and knots deep in her belly.

“You will, Pete. After everything you’ve done for this city, I think it’s about time you got some good karma come your way. When’s your first day?”

“Next week. Once I know the ropes and get my lab, I’ll have you come down so I can show you everything.” The thought makes Peter even more excited, if possible, and it makes MJ happy that he wants to share this part of his life with her.

“I’d love that, tiger. Maybe I can even do an article on it, and you’ll be in the papers in a positive light for a change.” MJ teases, and Peter groans. “Get a nice picture of you in your white lab coat. Sounds kind of sexy...”

Peter raises his eyebrows and they both laugh over their coffees.

On their way back to the dorms from the coffee shop, Peter stiffens. Both of them notice a small crowd gathering around at the end of the street, and Peter leads them into a secluded alley. He makes a move to grab MJ’s waist to swing her the rest of the way home so he can go see what the commotion was, but she stops him.

“We’re only two blocks away, I’ll be fine.” MJ reasons. “By the time you drop me off and then come back here, whatever’s happening could be over, and I know you want to check if anyone’s hurt.”

Peter sighs, his eyes going back and forth between MJ and the crowd, which is starting to look distressed and their voices are getting louder, and he shakes his head in resignation.

“Go quickly, and text me the second you’re inside.” He instructs, giving her a quick peck, and they go their separate ways. A few seconds later, MJ looks up and sees Spider-Man swinging in the air.

Walking towards the dorm’s building, MJ suddenly gets the feeling of being watched again. She swallows it down, convinced she’s just being overly suspicious, and instead worries about Peter despite herself.

Finally making it to the dorms, she uses her keycard to open the front door to the building, and texts him right away.

_“I’m home. Safe. You be safe too._

_Love MJ.”_

She shakes her head and smiles, hitting send.

And then everything goes black.

* * *

MJ’s head feels groggy and heavy, the weight of her eyelids making it impossible to open them fully.

Coming to, she winces at the hardness against her back, bracing her hands on wet patches of the concrete floor she’s lying on.

“ _Here.... She's.... She, yes... He won't… Now… Mine… She is..._ ” MJ can hear somebody mumbling in the distance, but can’t make out exactly what they’re saying or where they are.

She tries to stand up, but only manages to get up to a sitting position before her head protests, sending a shooting pain right behind her eyes.

Looking around, MJ attempts to make sense of where she is and what happened, but the darkness of the room throws her off, and it takes her a minute to notice the light straying into the room from a slit in the door that’s next to her.

Once her eyes adjust to the settings, she hears the voice again, and can tell that the person is pacing around, talking to themselves.

 _Why me? Why is it_ **always** _me?_ MJ thinks to herself, making the connection that nothing good can come from this situation.

She searches her body for any injuries that the person, whoever they are, may have inflicted on her while she was out, but she counts her blessing that all her clothes are still on and that she doesn’t look like she has come to any harm. Yet.

Feeling her anxiety coming, she tries turning her focus to her surroundings again. Looking for a way out, she feels the walls of the broom closet-sized room she’s in for a hidden window, or _something_ she can use as a tool or, God forbid, a weapon.

Her foot connects hard with something sharp on the floor, and she winces, picking it up and trying to determine if she can use it for anything.

Broken glass. She’s not sure from where, though, as there’s no windows in this tiny space. But from the smell and damp floor, she figures it must be somewhere abandoned. Examining the shard, she realizes it’s not big enough to be useful, so she throws it to the ground in frustration.

At least 20 more minutes pass, and after much useless scheming, MJ finally admits there’s nothing else she can try. So she resorts to the last thing she’d want to do.

“H-Hello?” Her voice is raspy and barely audible. So she clears her throat and speaks again.

“HELLO?”

The shuffling and murmuring on the other side of the the door ceases.

As she hears footsteps coming towards her, MJ panics a little, and asks despite herself.

“Who are you?! What do you want with me?!”

They don’t answer. MJ would think she was alone if it wasn’t for the faint sound of breathing on the other end.

“Look, you have me here, NOW _DO_ SOMETHING ABOUT IT!” MJ screams, bottling up the fear inside her.

The puffs of breath on the other end quicken, and she can tell they’re getting angry, so she back tracks, lowering her voice.

“You don’t have to do this. You can just let me go, and nothing bad has to happen.” MJ’s voice is shaky.

“I can’t do that.” A man’s voice replies.

MJ can’t help but feel like she’s heard that voice before.

“Why not? You can talk to me.” She tries to coax whatever information she can out of him.

“I’ve already said too much. I’ve got to go, I’ll be back in a few hours.” The man says, and then she hears footsteps walking away.

“No! NO! COME BACK!” MJ starts to pound on the door. But there’s no use, he’s gone.

* * *

_Helping the fine city of New York one purse snatcher at a time._ Peter thinks to himself as he returns the old lady’s handbag and breaks up the rowdy crowd surrounding the sidewalk.

Finally having the chance to check his phone, he retrieves it from his backpack in a nearby alleyway and sees the text from MJ, smiling when he learns she’s alright.

He picks up some flowers along the way home, only three tulips (as that is all he can afford) so he can give them to MJ when he sees her, and swings the rest of the way back to ESU.

As he walks into his dorm room, he steps on a piece of paper that nearly makes him slip and fall down, if it weren’t for his spider-reflexes.

Picking it up from the floor, he sees scribbles all over it and has to first squint, then hold it at a different angle to realize the scrawl is actually words. Peter jokingly mutters that it looks like a blind person’s handwriting.

With a lot of difficulty, he makes out what it says, and his blood turns to ice in dread, and the tulips drop to the floor.

_Pete,_

_Something happened to MJ. Somebody drugged and took her…_

_Didn’t know your number-- called the police and am out looking for her now._

_Matt_

The instant he reads the last word, Peter is halfway to the living room window and barely has enough time to even put his mask back on before he’s swinging out into the city.

He’s swinging so fast that his webbing almost doesn’t have time to attach to anything before he’s releasing another strand. His arms start to protest at the strenuous movements, but he suppresses the pain, only able to think of _her_.

After frantically moving through a few blocks without a real plan of attack, he realizes he has no idea where MJ was taken, or where to start looking for her, and he panics, feeling incredibly helpless.

Peter perches on the ledge of the highest building he can find, trying to steady himself, knowing that he won’t be able to think properly if he’s hysterical.

As he takes a deep, settling breath, and tries to regain focus to assess the situation with a clearer head, something catches his attention from the corner of his eye.

There’s a figure in black jumping from building to building, almost invisible against the dark evening sky. Peter leans forward to try and get a better look, and he notices the silhouette stopping every now and then as if to listen to something before diving into the air, only to land on another rooftop and keep running.

The more Peter focuses on the person, the more it looks like they’re running straight to him. The runner is fast. Really fast. Within minutes, they’re on the rooftop of the building just below the one Peter’s on.

“Can’t get up there. Come down here.” The voice is deep, and confusion spreads throughout Peter.

He’s wary at first, but Peter thinks that this may be his only lead, as this is too peculiar to not be connected.

Releasing another strand of webbing, he swings down towards the man, landing a few meters away. It’s too dark out now, so he can’t quite make out who the other person is. He’s wearing a homemade mask as well, and Peter has flashbacks to when he first started out as Spider-Man.

“I know what you’re looking for,” the man says cryptically. “Follow me.”

He takes off, sprinting in the other direction, and if the situation was different, Peter would know better; this has ‘trap’ written all over it. But he’s desperate and this is the only clue that he has, vague as it may be. So he follows closely behind.

After moving, swinging, running for what feels like hours, the man stops and cocks his head to the side.

“Whoever it was, they used chloroform. The stench is so strong I was able to track it here. My bet is that they’re inside.”

They both look over to what seems to be an abandoned warehouse by the docks, and Peter suspiciously looks back at his companion. How the hell did he smell something from so far away?

Peter goes to make a move towards the building, but the man extends his arm, his hand pushing Peter’s chest back. Peter instinctively bends back so that the other man’s hand is no longer touching him, but the masked individual continues to speak like nothing happened.

“You can’t just waltz in. We have no clue what or who is in there. Or what they might do to her if we show up.”

* * *

“HELP!” MJ screams. She’s losing count of how many times she’s yelled. Despite being in a concrete building, her voice is barely traveling.

“HEL--” She hears a door open in the distance, somebody making their way into the warehouse.

“I’m home, sweetheart.” The man whispers, and she has to do everything in her power not to puke.

“I got you a few things.” His voice is so soft and quiet, it’s extremely unsettling in this awful situation.

A few moments later she hears metal grinding, as if something old and rusty is opening, and then a piece of fabric falls from above and she jumps. There must be a chute of some sort in the room.

Grabbing the material, she examines it the best she can through the very dim light from the crack in the door. It looks to be an off white, and feels like a lace fabric. Unravelling it, she can see that it’s a long dress. Like a wedding gown…

“Please put this on and give me the rest of your clothes through the small opening.”

“Is… Is this what I think it is…” MJ asks, voice wavering.

“Of course, sweetie. You wouldn’t forget our wedding day, would you?” He says delicately.

“I am not putting this on, you SICK FUCK!” MJ screams, throwing the gown to the floor in disgust.

“Then I guess you don’t want to eat until you do.” The man says, and she hears shuffling, the man’s footsteps walking away.

“Wait, WAIT!” MJ panics. She doesn’t want to stay in this confined place any longer; it has already been hours-- though it feels like weeks.

* * *

Up on the rooftop outside, Peter stands back impatiently while the other masked man stands on the edge, head slightly tilted to the side, gauging their surroundings, and just as Peter is about to say something, unable to wait any longer, the man turns to him.

“It’s just the two of them in there, he has her locked somewhere on the second floor,” he says. Peter takes a stance to shoot a web and move immediately, but he’s stopped once again.

“We can’t be reckless!” His whisper is harsh, but his voice changes as he continues. “The man has been keeping very close to her, so it’s going to be tricky.”

He goes on explaining the details of the warehouse for possible ways to get in, and it unnerves Peter how he seems to have all of the answers. This definitely looks like a huge trap.

Both men agree on a plan on how to proceed, and Peter cooks up a backup one in his head in case the masked man betrays him.

“So you enter from above while I go from below, and we’ll meet on the second floor and take it from there, agreed?” The man in black asks, and Peter nods, promptly releasing a string of web and jumping off of the roof.

As he crawls across the walls of the warehouse, trying to find a vulnerable spot he can get in through, Peter finds himself saying a prayer that MJ is okay and unharmed. He kicks himself for not walking her home, for being so careless, for always allowing her to be in harm’s way when his job and biggest wish in life is to keep her safe.

* * *

MJ stands there by the door with the old, ratty gown draped over her body. Fighting the sobs from coming out for having to stoop to this, she finally speaks.

“I’m ready…” Her voice is beaten.

“Lovely. Just one more thing, though. I need you to put these on too. You’re naughty, there’s no telling of what you may do.” The man says, and it’s followed by a clunking sound from the chute.

 _Handcuffs_.

Her stomach sinks.

MJ tries to open her mouth, but nothing comes out. She is petrified now, but she pushes herself in spite of it, that impertinent side of her refusing to be pushed around by this type of person.

“C-Come on, you can trust me. I’m sorry I was difficult before, I was just confused. I don’t need to wear those, it’s okay, okay?” MJ tries to convince her kidnapper.

“Put them on…”

“Please, please? Can I know your name?”

“It’s Jonathon.”

“Well, Jonathon, look, we don’t need those, alright? I’ll be good.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet, MJ.” His voice gets deeper.

“I promise you can. Just let me out of here, what do you say?”

A moment passes and it’s extremely quiet. MJ’s about to surrender to the tears and hopelessness when she hears a key enter the keyhole. Shortly after, the door opens.

It takes a while for MJ’s eyes to adjust to the brightness of the fluorescent lightbulb above, but when it does, she wishes she never got out of the closet at all.

The first thing she sees is the hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of herself hung up on all the walls. Photos from magazine spreads, her photoshoots, even ones that haven’t been given out to the public. Yet, the most horrific thing is what seems to be Jonathon’s own candids of her. Taken without her knowing. She recognizes outfits she had worn months ago.

But it isn’t until she finally looks at her captor, that her heart completely plummets.

Jonathon is the man from the bus stop.

* * *

The place has been abandoned for so long that most of it is falling apart, worn down by the saltwater in the air, so Peter doesn’t even have to break anything to get inside, and the silence works to his advantage.

He wastes no time getting to the second floor, keeping his senses attuned to the environment, still worried about this all being an ambush.

Crawling down the walls through a destroyed floorboard, Peter notices a silhouette making its way to him, and he recognizes it to be the rooftop man.

“Find anything?” Peter whispers, getting off of the wall and standing up straight.

“They’re right across from us, opposite the wall facing the water. They don’t know we’re here.”

Peter sprints towards the wall the masked man was referring to before he’s even done talking, and despite his cries for him to stop, Peter doesn’t listen.

He goes flying through the wall, rolling onto the floor and springing up to his feet instantly. The kidnapper swivels his head towards all the noise, and his face goes completely enraged.

With all his force, Jonathon pushes MJ back into the closet, and she goes straight into the wall, which she now notices is made of complete steel. He slams the door shut and locks it with the key again.

MJ sits on the floor, absolutely stunned. She takes a moment to realize what just happened as she clutches her side from the blow.

_Peter is here._

This gives MJ a new surge of courage. She barely stops to acknowledge the pain from crashing against the wall before looking around the room again for a way out, determined not to just stand idly.

She can hear Peter approaching Jonathon, but she tunes everything out, desperate to get out of here.

Her eyes go to the chute Jonathon used to give her the dress and cuffs, and the thought of climbing out of it sounds ridiculous, but there is no other way that doesn’t involve inhuman strength.

The sound of fighting on the other side of the door make her mind up for her, and she stands up, noticing the opening is eye level to her. Gently opening it so it doesn’t draw attention, she looks through it and can see Peter pounding the man, and MJ knows she has to stop him before he gets to the point of no return.

With every ounce of strength she can muster up, she holds onto the ledge of the opening and picks up her entire weight with just her arms. Her hips hitch onto the edge, and she pushes her foot off the wall, swinging her other one up.

Now sitting on the flap, she’s scared it won’t hold her weight for much longer. Shimmying her body into the tiny hole, she uses her elbows to propel herself forward. It isn’t long until she drops out of the small tunnel and onto the floor in the room where everything is happening.

Standing up, despite her aching body protesting against it, she notices another man in the room, wearing a black mask. Her first instinct is to run the opposite way, but his voice stops her.

“Spider-Man, get the _hell_ out of here, I got this!” The man yells. “And you! You get out of here!” He looks at MJ, pointing to the exit.

MJ refuses to leave Peter; she can’t let him get this close to the edge again because of her.

As the masked man moves to join the fight, holding Jonathon back so he can’t reach for the sharp pieces of wood strewn across the floor, MJ’s voice echoes across the room.

“Hey. HEY, I’M HERE.” MJ gets closer so that Peter can see her, but he’s so focused on pounding Jonathon he doesn’t even notice. “I am here… Please. I love you.”

Peter finally comes to and looks at MJ. His focus goes to her entirely now, both of his hands grabbing onto her arms tightly as if to see if it was truly her.

“Mary Jane…” His voice is mixed with relief, exhaustion, and devastation.

The masked man unconsciously loosens his grip on Jonathon for a second, and it’s enough for him to push the man away and reach into his pocket. The kidnapper now has a gun, and he points it at Peter, then to the masked man, back and forth.

“Don’t make me do it! Don’t make me fucking do it!” His hands are shaking and sweat drips from his hairline.

“Woah, hey!” MJ says, and shields Peter’s body with hers.

“NO!” Peter yells, but MJ doesn’t listen, moving closer to Jonathon.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to do this, Jonathon. Just put the gun down and nothing bad has to happen, okay?” She says soothingly, suddenly not afraid anymore. Like everything she needs is just to keep Peter safe.

“Mar--” Peter moves to get her, but the masked man stops him.

“She’s got this…” Peter’s sidekick whispers. “This is the only chance we have.”

“Just give me the gun, okay?” MJ urges calmly, but assertively.

His hands are still extremely shaky, the gun pointed right to MJ’s chest. He looks dispirited, like he never wanted any of it to come to this, yet MJ feels no sympathy for this man.

“It can’t go back… It won’t...” Jonathon sobs, and he turns the gun from MJ to his own temple.

“NO!” MJ screams, but her voice comes out half a second too late. The man has already pulled the trigger.

MJ can feel a hot, sticky splatter on her face.

The man collapses to the floor, and MJ starts to tremble. She spins around to face Peter and he comes rushing towards her, wrapping her up in his arms, and she begins to weep.

He holds her tightly for endless minutes, kissing the top of her head repeatedly, and when her crying subsides, the masked man approaches them.

“You should take her home.” He says softly.

Peter motions his head towards Jonathon’s body, wordlessly asking what they should do with him, and all of the photos around the room.

“I’ll take care of it,” the man reassures him. “Just go.”

The sound of police sirens slowly start to fill the air, and Peter gently leads MJ out of the warehouse. When they get outside, Peter turns his head back and sees the masked man’s silhouette on the second floor, watching over them. They exchange a nod, and Peter shoots a web up, cradling MJ and swinging into the night sky, taking them home.

They land on Peter’s balcony, entering through window quietly to not disturb Matt if he’s home.

“Would you like me to take you to your dorm?” Peter asks quietly, not wanting to startle her.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” MJ asks, looking up at him.

“Of course.” he says without hesitation. “I-- I’m so sorry, Mary Jane.” Peter looks down, ashamed.

MJ’s brow furrows and she steps so she’s closer to him, both hands going on each side of his face.

“This had nothing to do with you. That creep wasn’t some super evil villain trying to get to you. He was just a sick bastard and my career is what exposed me to him. Not you.”

“Still.” Peter says, his eyes connecting with hers.

“Still, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what would have happened to me tonight.” She says, and her stomach turns.

“I had help…” Peter mentions.

MJ drops her hands to her side and starts to walk to Peter’s bathroom. “Yeah, who _was_ that guy?” She asks.

“I have no idea. All I could gather is that his senses are somehow amplified? Maybe I’m not the only person with powers who doesn’t want to kill people and steal things around here.”

“Maybe you can get matching tights and fight crime together.” MJ says as she turns on the faucet and starts scrubbing off the remnants of tonight off of her face.

“Isn’t it a little early to joke? Like… What you went through is traumatic, Red.” Peter raises an eyebrow.

“Not gonna let it defeat me.” MJ doesn’t bother looking at her reflection in the mirror, as she knows one look at the blood splattered on her face and she will be stricken by panic again.

Looking at her as she cleans herself up, Peter can’t help but marvel at MJ’s strength. Even with all that’s happened to her, she never lets it make her jaded; she still believes in the good in people, and she still wants to help them and make a difference. For all of his super powers, Peter thinks the real hero is MJ.

“I love you, you know that?” Peter says, still looking at her.

“I love you too, tiger.”

Peter walks to his bedroom and gets changed. He grabs a t-shirt for MJ to wear, as she’s still in that awful gown that he doesn’t want to ask about for her sake.

As MJ walks out of the bathroom with Peter’s t-shirt on and no traces of the night they just had, they hear the familiar tapping of a cane in the hallway and keys in the front door.

“Crap, I totally forgot about Matt. He also went out to look for you.” Peter tells MJ as the door opens.

She’s about to ask how could a blind guy ever hope to find anyone out in the city when Peter speaks up again.

“Hey, Matt, shit-- I’m so sorry, I should’ve texted you,” he fumbles with his words, feeling bad about leaving him wandering without a clue. “Mary Jane’s here, it was-- Well, everything is fine now.”

“Hi, Matt.” MJ greets a bit sheepishly, feeling guilty. “Do you mind if I stay the night here? Don’t wanna be alone after tonight.”

Matt sets his cane and glasses by the kitchen counter and smiles towards them both.

“Of course I don’t mind, you’re always welcome here.” He says. “I’m really glad you’re alright.”

He bids them goodnight and goes to his room, a black mask hanging out of his back pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Kidnapping/Graphic Description of Violence
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	24. Chapter 24

MJ is woken up by Peter softly saying her name, stroking her hair. He lies beside her and kisses her over and over until she’s fully awake.

“What? What happened?” says MJ, opening her eyes to see it’s still dark outside.

“You were having another nightmare.” Peter sounds upset.

MJ’s eyes focus on him, and the dark circles under his eyes give his lack of sleep away.

“What was this one about?” Peter is almost scared to ask.

MJ pauses a moment, not wanting Peter to worry. But there’s something so comforting about being here in his arms, she doesn’t want to keep anything from him anymore; they’re a team.

“Everything. Jonathon. Norman. _Harry_... “ MJ feels guilty saying the latter’s name. “I still haven’t heard from him.”

Peter lowers his eyes at the sound of his best friend’s name. He’s stopped himself from thinking about Harry since he’s disappeared from their lives and went to his place in the Hamptons for some rehabilitation. His stomach churns at the thought of what happened the last night the three of them were together.

Peter is sobered from his thoughts when MJ delicately traces his furrowed brow with her thumb.

“How about you and I play hooky and ditch school tomorrow to visit him?” Peter asks, grabbing a hold of MJ’s hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’d like that.” she agrees, staring at the dark circles under his eyes, worry spreading throughout her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Just… A lot in the noodle. You. Future super villains’ master plan. That masked man…” His mind wanders when he mentions him.

“I thought you said he was one of the good guys?” MJ asks. “He did help us, after all.”

“Yeah, but who knows if he wasn’t there just to hurt somebody else?” Peter sighs. “Why haven’t we heard about him before? Jameson would jump at the chance of dragging yet another masked person’s name through the dirt who's trying to do some good.”

MJ nods slightly.

“Do me a favour, will you? If you see that guy around, run the other way.” Peter requests. “Just until I know what his deal is.”

They lie sleeplessly for a couple more hours, Peter gently rubbing MJ’s back to dull the horror of what happened last night.

It isn’t until the sounds of Matt shuffling around the apartment, getting ready for his day and locking the door behind him do Peter and MJ step out of the bedroom. They head straight to the pot of coffee Matt left brewing for them, pouring themselves generous servings of it.

“So, do you remember how to get to Harry’s summer house?” MJ asks. “Can we just drop by unannounced? What if he doesn’t want to see us...”

“We’ve got to at least try, right?” Peter says more than asks.

“I’m going to quickly shower before we head out.” MJ says, entering the washroom as Peter cleans up the dishes they made.

* * *

The couple takes the subway to Queens to stop off at Aunt May’s quickly for a short visit so they can ask to borrow her clunker of a vehicle.

When they arrive to Peter’s childhood house, they’re greeted with a very excitable Aunt May.

“I knew it! I just _knew_ it!” May says with glee in her voice at the sight of MJ and Peter on her doorstep.

“What did you know, Aunt May?” Peter asks, raising an eyebrow as they enter in the familiar home, MJ not giving one glance to her old one.

“You two. You’re together now, aren’t you?” May turns around looking very pleased, and MJ blushes.

“How did you…?” Peter starts, but Aunt May cuts him off.

“Pish posh, you don’t think you can keep anything from your aunt, can you? Oh, I just knew it! I knew it from the moment I saw you together the first time. It was destined!” Aunt May walks over to give MJ a big hug.

“Yeah, this big lug is kinda like a leech that you can’t get rid of.” MJ teases, and Peter gives a mock hurt face.

“So to what do I owe this honour?” May asks as she ushers them to sit down in the living room. She has a pot of tea ready to go and pours them each a cup.

“We actually can’t stay long, we were wondering if we could borrow your car.” Peter asks, sheepishly.

“I should have known you just needed something!” May jokes. “Are you two off for a romantic getaway somewhere?”

Peter and MJ fidget by way of answer, and May’s face sobers up, catching on that there’s a lot more complicated than that.

“Uhm… We’re actually hoping to go visit Harry.” Peter finally says.

May sits up straight, nodding.

“Oh, my.” She exclaims. Standing up, she reaches for her keys and hands them to MJ, whose face is serious. “You should get going, then.”

“Why do you automatically assume MJ will drive?” Peter asks, with a jokingly glare.

“Because you’re an atrocious driver, dear.”

The three can’t help but laugh, their spirits lifting a little.

With tight hugs, they say their goodbyes and May watches them get into the car from her doorway.

* * *

The drive is long, and Peter and MJ try to keep the mood light by talking about this and that, but the air still hangs heavy with uncertainty over what’s going to happen once they get to Harry’s mansion.

Peter still gets more and more nervous the further they get away from New York, but his hand is rested on MJ’s thigh, her hand on his, and she gives him a tight squeeze every so often.

So many memories surge through MJ when she glances towards Peter, seeing him tense. It’s a different tense from his spider senses, but she knows he’s afraid that they _will_ go off and he won’t be anywhere near New York City to help. It reminds her of how reluctant he was to go when it was the four of them…

But with every squeeze of his hand and some eye contact, he seems to calm down a little.

“We won’t be there for long. We’ll be back as soon as you know it.” MJ tries to reassure

Once they arrive at the grounds, they’re immediately greeted by a menacing-looking security guard, ready to shoo them away-- and using force if necessary.

MJ, being better at getting people to do things they might otherwise not be willing to, talks to the guard, and asks that Harry be notified she and Peter came to visit him. The large man reluctantly walks away into his booth to contact someone through the landline in there, and minutes later the gate in front of their car opens up, letting them in.

They park the car in the driveway, but MJ doesn’t step out of it once the engine is off. Peter, who had half-gotten out, sits back in and closes the door on his side, waiting patiently. Even without the two of them exchanging a word, MJ feels her nerves settling down just knowing Peter understands and doesn’t judge her for being nervous.

With a deep breath and a small smile, they both get out of the car and walk up to the intimidating oak doors, and it opens before they can even knock.

Harry stands weakly on the threshold, looking at MJ and Peter with weary, hollowed-out eyes, and he looks as thin and frail as ever. MJ’s hand flies to her mouth to cover her gasp, and Harry buries himself deeper into his silk robes self-consciously, looking like a little boy playing with his father’s clothes.

Peter’s the first one to talk, though by the way his voice wavers, he’s the least confident of the three of them.

“Hey, buddy.” He tries to sound friendly.

Harry’s eyes dart to him, and soften a little as they catch Peter’s half smile, but go hard again. Moving out of the way, he motions for them to enter, and MJ and Peter shyly make their way into the house.

They all sit on the big couches that fill up the living room, the same ones the four of them sat on what feels like forever ago. This time there’s no laughter and jokes, just silence that settles itself on them uncomfortably.

In her head, MJ is frantically trying to come up with something to say, but everything she can come up with sounds absurd. _“Hey, so how was your mental breakdown”_ isn’t exactly an ice breaker.

In the end, it’s Peter again who tries to get the ball rolling.

“Sorry we didn’t come sooner. We just figured you needed some space, and it’s been pretty hectic latel--”

“You mean, because you’re Spider-Man?” Harry cuts him off. His jaw tight.

It feels like somebody has punched MJ in the gut, she feels winded, and the expression on Peter’s face says he feels the same, too.

“Uhm, we just wanted to see how you were doing after… everything.” MJ interjects, hoping to shift the focus from Peter.

“A couple of months too late.” Harry adds, bitterly, still looking at Peter. “And by the looks of it, you two are together, aren’t you?” He looks more hurt than mad when he says it.

MJ isn’t sure how everybody can keep guessing this. It makes her wonder how she was able to keep her feelings to herself for so long if it just keeps radiating off the both of them somehow. She doesn’t want to lie to Harry, but before she can say anything, he continues.

“I should have known it would always happen in the end. Even when _we_ were together, I could always tell you loved _him_.” Harry’s eyes shift to MJ’s, but when he says the last word, there’s so much venom in it.

So MJ _wasn’t_ very good at hiding it.

Her heart sinks. This wasn’t the direction she thought the conversation would head to at all. It’s hard to believe the skeleton of a man sitting in front of them was once someone she considered a best friend.

“Look, Harry, we came a long ways to see if you’re alright.” Peter says, and MJ can tell his patience is wearing thin.

“I’m great, actually. Never better. A lot of things have been made more clearer now.” Harry spits. “Now you can take that off your conscience.”

“Come on, that’s not what this is about…” Peter replies, and Harry takes all of a second to retort.

“ _Bullshit_!” He snaps, voice raising. “I don’t hear from _either_ of you for months after _everything_ ,” he tosses his hands in the air, “then when I get back to our-- to _my_ apartment, all of your stuff is gone? Then the two of you waltz in here holding hands, practically shoving it in my face that you’re better off without me, and you expect me to believe this is about _you_ caring for _me_?!”

Peter is stunned, chest rising and falling fast, frozen in place. The force of Harry’s words makes MJ flinch in her seat, and tears threaten to come to her eyes. He’s got this all wrong, and if she could just make him understand…

She finds herself struggling to find the right words to say, as every second that goes by, Harry visibly gets more and more angry.

Harry’s shaking with the effort to stand up, but he does anyway and heads to the drink cart by the window to pour himself a hard beverage he probably shouldn’t be having, especially at this hour.

Drink in hand, he turns to them slightly. He looks too much like his father in this moment, with the sun shining down on his face, making his features look sharper than usual.

“So, let me just ask you one thing, MJ.” he starts, a scoff escaping his lips. “Now that you two... _lovebirds_ are together, aren’t you scared that Peter’s gonna snap your pretty little neck, too?”

Peter jumps to his feet immediately, lunging towards Harry, and MJ follows, having to use all of her strength to hold him back. The expression on Peter’s face is one she’s never seen before.

“How dare you.” Peter says, and the volume of his voice scares her. He’s not shouting; his voice is even but for the steadying breaths. It’s that his words drip with repugnance, and even MJ shivers.

To MJ’s surprise, Harry lets out a deep, throaty laugh, mere inches from Peter’s face. Even though every fibre in her being she wishes more than anything it wasn’t true, MJ has to accept that her friend is no longer here, and instead, a bitter, fatherless man has taken his place.

Grabbing Peter’s hand in hers, MJ tells him they should leave. Being here isn’t solving anything.

With one last disgusted look between Harry and him, Peter relents and starts to walk with MJ to the exit. Before they’re fully out the door, they hear Harry tittering then yelling out to them one last time.

“For old time’s sake, MJ, I really hope you last longer than _she_ did.”

* * *

A couple of days pass, and neither of them bring up their encounter with Harry much after that. There is no reason to open up old wounds that will just hurt the both of them. Or new ones, like if Harry will share Peter’s secret.

She can tell, though, that Peter has been a little distant since then. Despite Harry being completely out of his mind that day, she knows Peter is ultimately worried that being with him will get her hurt, or worse. He goes extra hard on her during their self defense lessons; he looks more determined than ever.

Since moving to the city, MJ has been held hostage in an underground subway station, beaten in a dark alley, has nearly lost her hearing due to an explosion, and kidnapped by a stalker. None of which were Peter’s fault by any means, but he takes the blame upon himself all the same.

And he will always go back to those nights with the Goblin.

She tries to reassure him that without Spider-Man… Without Peter, the chances of her being here now would’ve been very slim. He always dismisses it with a small smile, the words never fully reaching him.

It’s the morning of Peter’s first day at Doctor Connor’s lab, and MJ wakes up early with him. She decides to accompany him on the subway, and to head to a nearby coffee shop to work on her homework afterwards.

They arrive at the front steps of the generously-sized building, and MJ turns to face Peter.

“You’re going to knock ‘em dead. I can’t wait until I can come and see what you get up to in there. You deserve this Pete, more than anyone.” She’s looking up to him, and she can see the excitement in his eyes.

“As soon as I’m able to, I’ll show you around.” He leans down and gives her a deep kiss, then turns around to enter the building. “I’ll text you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She responds, but he’s already inside.

MJ finds a seat in the coffee shop next to a big window, and she opens up her old hunk of a laptop to get to work. Skype logs her in automatically, and she can see Adrian’s name and that he’s online.

He’s been keeping his distance lately, only contacting her for urgent work things, and she appreciates it. She thinks it’s time to get back into everything, though. There’s no way she’s going to allow her awful experiences shape who she is going to be, so she clicks onto his name.

_**MJ_WATSON:** Hey Adrian. Are you there?_

A few minutes pass, and MJ find herself chewing on her thumbnail in anticipation. Guilt creeping up on her, knowing that Adrian thought she would be his new up and coming model, and she hasn’t exactly made it easy on him. So deep in thought, the IM sound through MJ’s headphones nearly makes her jump.

_**ADRIANIMG:** Yeah._

The one word answer is a bit unsettling, but she proceeds.

_**MJ_WATSON:** I was just wondering if you needed me to stop by or anything. Life’s been a bit crazy lately, but I am ready to get down and work again if you still want to represent me._

There’s no reply for a couple more minutes, and MJ is about to message him again when the familiar sound of an incoming Skype call rings in her ears. Adrian wants to video-chat.

She accepts the call, unconsciously running her hands through her hair and moving her face towards the light from the window.

“Well, I didn’t think I was ever going to talk to you again other than through emails.” Adrian says instead of a greeting. He looks good; his stubble and hair very maintained.

“I’m sorry. A lot has been going on, but I’m ready to do this again, if you are.”

Adrian goes out of frame for a second, reaching down for something. When he sits back up, he has a folder in hand, which he opens up.

“Let’s get started, then.”

About an hour and a half passes, and MJ has a few meetings, a couple of shoots, and some fittings planned for the near future. It feels nice to dive into this again. He told her that she’ll need to sign a contract of sorts, so she’s held accountable for if she’s ever a flight risk again.

They end the call on good terms, though, and she feels lighter, determined to put the kidnapping behind her.

“MJ.”

She looks up from her laptop to see who says her name, and it’s Eddie. Wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, telling herself that not everybody is a stalker, she gives him a soft smile.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks. He looks friendly and like he doesn’t want to impose, so MJ nods her head.

“What are you doing around this part of town?” MJ asks, curious.

“I actually was at Doctor Connors’ lab, just getting some coffees for the noobs to go.”

“Wait-- You work with Doctor Connors too?”

“‘Too’”?

“Oh, yeah, Peter-- my boyfriend just got an internship there.” MJ explains. “I thought you worked for the Bugle?”

“I do. But I can’t let a brain like mine just go to waste working for a dingy newspaper when I could be achieving so much more, you know? The Bugle pays the bills, that’s all.”

“Right…” MJ says, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“You should come back with me. I can show you where I-- And your boyfriend will be working.” He gives her a little wink.

“Oh, that’s nice of you, but I should probably wait until Peter knows the ropes a bit more before I show up.” MJ knows that Peter would be furious if Eddie were the one to show her around.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Well, it was nice seeing you, freckles. I should get going. “ Eddie says as the barista sets the half dozen of coffees on their table.

MJ nods while Eddie gets up from his seat, they say their goodbyes and he’s out the door.

About an hour later into her homework, MJ decides to pack up her things and head back to her dorm before nightfall. If she has learned anything living in the city, is to not wait to walk home by yourself when it’s dark out. Especially after the last week she’s had.

Once in the dorm, MJ sets her things on her bed and makes her way to the fridge as she hears her stomach grumble. Tracy, her roommate, recently decided to become vegan and has been trying out different recipes, and MJ will never admit it, but she loves them.

Finding a container with deliciously-looking food whose ingredients she’s sure she can’t even pronounce, MJ sits at the counter to eat, and her mind wanders to all the school work she’s yet to do.

She groans a little, but deep down she’s thankful for being busy. Her life could definitely use a little normalcy once in a while.

Tracy seems to be out for the evening, and the heaviness of the empty apartment seems to be creeping up on MJ. She finds it’s extremely hard to be alone lately, and she absentmindedly looks to the direction of the boys’ dorm, wondering if Matt is home.

Before she knows it, she’s striding across the hall, laptop under her arm, and Matt meets her at the door with a warm welcome.

“Hey, MJ, what’s up?”

“Care for some company?” MJ asks a little shyly.

“Absolutely.” Matt responds, stepping aside so MJ can enter.

He doesn’t have his sunglasses on, it’s the first time she has seen him without them, and she looks curiously at his eyes. They’re not milky white like they always are in the movies. His are hazel, and the color seems to shift depending on the lighting, from deep brown to light honey.

Matt asks MJ if she wants anything to drink, but she shakes her head, adding a “no, thank you” when she remembers he can’t see her gestures.

“I’m surprised how tidy this place is, considering Peter is a complete slob.” MJ says as she looks around.

“It’s just easier for me if everything is where it’s supposed to be.” He adds.

As they sit down on the sofa, she finds the courage to ask him what she’s wondered since they’ve met.

“How did it happen?” She tries to make her voice sound conversational instead of demanding.

She worries she might have been too forward before Matt even answers, but he smiles kindly, not giving her a chance to apologize.

“Car accident,” he answers, leaning back onto the couch. “This maniac with a truck was speeding down the street, and was going to hit a blind old man right as he was crossing. I pushed him out of the way and got hit instead. Kind of stupid and ironic.” He gives a soft laugh.

MJ is surprised by how natural he sounds when talking about it. She was expecting him to be born that way, not something extremely heroic like that.

To say MJ has been through her fair share of traumatic events is an understatement. Talking about said traumatic things seems nearly impossible without breaking down, or at least being dismissive about it. And yet, Matt talks about his as if it’s just a regular childhood story of mischievous boys climbing trees.

“Not stupid. You’re kind of a hero, Matt.” MJ says, poking him in the side with her elbow. She could have sworn she saw him brace himself for her jab…

He gives her a smile, shrugging it off just like Peter would.

“How are you holding up?” He asks. Despite the disability, there’s still so much emotion behind his eyes.

MJ has a noncommittal reply ready to come out, but the earnest way he told his story makes her pause.

“Honestly?” She lets out a deep sigh. “I could be better.”

“That’s to be expected. You went through a lot.” He reassures, and MJ narrows her eyes a little.

She never told Matt exactly what she endured that day. Before she can dwell on it any further, they hear a bang outside of the dorm along with somebody yelling, “SHIT!”

MJ looks at Matt, and he looks at the direction of the sound. At the same time, they both get up and walk towards the door.

When MJ opens the door, she sees a blonde girl carrying 3 boxes stacked on top of each other, the fourth one having fallen off onto the ground.

“Oh! Let me help.” MJ offers, walking towards the girl, grabbing the box she dropped.

Matt walks towards her as well, grabbing two other boxes she’s holding to ease her load.

“Matt, are you--” MJ begins, worried.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” He flashes a confident smile.

The girl, now being able to see over the single box she’s carrying, looks at her two rescuers.

“Wow, I thought New Yorkers were supposed to be rude. Thanks, guys, I’m just down the hall.”

“You new to ESU?” MJ asks, staying near Matt just in case he needs some help.

The girl casually flips her long blonde hair out of her face, and MJ finds her breath getting hitched in her throat, the simple mannerism reminding her of her late best friend.

“Yeah, just moved here from Vermont. I’m Karen, by the way. Karen Page.”

“I’m MJ! This is--”

“Matt, nice to meet you.” He chimes in.

Matt sounds charming, but then he looks down, and there’s a flicker in his expression, like he’s shy or embarrassed for not having his glasses on.

“Well, thanks again, guys.” Karen reiterates.

They make their way to Karen’s dorm room to set the boxes down.

“Where did you want these?” Matt asks.

“Oh, just in that room, please.” Karen points to the left, and there’s a bit of silence that follows.

“I-- Uh, need verbal directions.” Matt says, with a soft laugh.

Karen looks confused at first, but then she focuses on Matt’s face a little more. MJ nearly chortles when she sees the understanding spread on Karen’s face, her eyes nearly bulging out.

“Shit! I had no idea! You don’t seem-- Wow, you really don’t-- I’m sorry… Left. To the left.”

Matt gives a nod and makes his way to the room to the left.

Karen leans over to MJ and whispers, “Did I really just have a blind guy carry my boxes for me?”

MJ gives a genuine giggle.

“Nah, Matt doesn’t let that define him. He’s more than capable, don’t sweat it.”

Once the boxes are all inside and out of the way, Karen thanks them again for the help.

“Hey, uhm-- I don’t want to impose, or anything, I’m sure you guys are busy, but I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee as repayment, and maybe you could show me around campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, definitely.” MJ and Matt say in unison.

“My boyfriend should be back from the lab any minute. Want to watch a movie and order some Chinese with us later tonight? You can unpack a few things first.” MJ offers.

“For sure! Just give me a text when you’re ready.” Karen gives a large smile, and the two girls exchange phone numbers.

“She’s pretty.” MJ teases, nudging Matt with her elbow again as they make their way back to the dorm room.

“Really? Didn’t notice.” Matt flashes a mischievous expression.

Taking her phone out of her pants pocket, MJ sends Peter a text telling him about the plan for tonight as she crosses the threshold of the dorm, and then she slaps herself on the forehead.

“Hey, Matt,” MJ calls out. “You, uhm-- you watch movies, right? I mean, I know you can’t _watch_ watch it, but… Ugh, I feel like a jerk.”

Matt just laughs it off with a dismissive wave. “It’s fine, I actually like movies. You might have to describe any scenes that don’t have dialog, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, totally!” MJ replies, relieved. She tells herself she needs to be more careful about this stuff, but it helps that Matt seems to understand and doesn’t mind.

Not long after, the sound of keys jingling on the other end of the door fill MJ’s ears, and she gets up to greet Peter.

She takes a look at him before she decides what she’s going to say; taking in at his expression to gauge his mood. He looks tired, like he normally does lately, but there’s some of that boyish charm behind his eyes. When he sees MJ, he gives a large smile.

“Well?! How was your first day?” MJ asks, excitedly.

“Amazing, Mary Jane. Amazing,” he takes off his messenger bag and places it on the dining room table. “I mean, I'm exhausted, I think my brain won't work right for the next three days, but I'm doing what I love, you know?”

MJ bounces up and down and claps her hands. Flinging her arms over his shoulders, she plants a big kiss on his lips.

“Well, then we must celebrate! We will order Chinese _and_ a bottle of champagne.”

“Congrats, Pete!” Matt says from the couch.

“Thanks, man.” Peter returns.

With his hands resting on MJ's hips, Peter sighs.

"I should probably shower, you have no idea the kind of stuff I was touching in that lab."

"Eww!" MJ exclaims, pushing him away. "And you let me _kiss_ you?! What if you have some weird, gross-- alien stuff on you, or something?!"

Peter laughs loudly then blows her a kiss on his way to the bathroom, MJ's jokingly narrowed eyes following him out.

Once the Chinese has been delivered and the champagne picked up, MJ texts Karen to come over.

She knocks on the door a little shyly, and MJ welcomes her in warmly, introducing her to Peter and insisting that she make herself comfortable.

Choosing the spot on the couch right next to Matt, Karen looks curiously at the champagne bottle that's on the kitchen counter.

"What's the occasion?" She points to it.

"Apparently I'm a genius and my girlfriend loves me way too much." Peter answers, earning a smack on his forearm.

The dorm is filled with laughs and good conversation, and when the Chinese is all gone, and the champagne floating around in their stomachs, Karen has an idea.

“We should go out! Paint the town red. I walked past this really cool-looking bar this morning we could go to.”

MJ looks at Peter. It’s been a long time since she has gone out and did something fun like that. With all the terrible things that have happened in her life, MJ keeps forgetting to enjoy her young adulthood like this.

Matt is the first one to chime in.

“Sounds like it could be fun?”

Peter looks back at MJ and they exchange a conversation with no words at all. MJ cocks her head a little, curious to know if Peter thinks it’s a good idea to skip patrolling for tonight. He sticks out his bottom lip and bobs his head slightly to say it could be a good time, and MJ returns it with her eyebrows raising and a smile spreading on her lips.

Matt's voice cuts in after a moment of silence in the room.

"Uhm, guys? You still here?"

"Let's do it!" MJ says excitedly, and Karen woo-hoos.

* * *

The bar is trendy, and MJ recognizes the band playing softly through the speakers, as Peter listens to them sometimes.

The four of them walk around the place, describing the decorations and the interesting people to Matt, who's holding on to Karen's elbow as she gently guides him.

They find a table and sit down, Karen immediately ordering them all drinks, and they continue the conversation they were having at the dorm, getting to know each other better. When the drinks arrive, MJ wonders if Peter can get drunk when a shot is placed in front of him. With the whole superhuman healing factor, does that include being intoxicated? She’ll have to remember to ask him later.

MJ has missed making new friends and she delights at every story that Karen tells about her teenage years, and Matt about his childhood. They all take their shots and loosen up even more, and Matt starts telling them a story about his past.

"You _beat_ the kid up?" MJ repeats Matt's last sentence, incredulous.

"He was making fun of my glasses!" He defends himself. "I really wish I could've seen his face when he realized he was getting a beating from a blind kid."

MJ has her hand placed on Peter’s thigh under the table, giving it a squeeze every now and then. She can’t remember the last time since he was bit by that spider that he's been fully relaxed like this. Not just now, but for the last few months.

It’s nice to see him have somewhat of a normal life. There’s still beating up super villains every so often, but for the most part, Peter seems content. MJ doesn’t want to take credit for it, as there’s so many great opportunities popping up in his life right now, but she blushes at the thought she could be contributing to it. Though she can tell he’s still a little shaken up about the visit with Harry, taking what he had to say personally, it’s fading a little every day.

She looks at him and he looks back, his brown eyes warm and it feels like home. She leans in to give him a kiss, then rests her head on his shoulder, listening to all the stories.

They order a couple more beverages but are ultimately too busy talking and laughing at each other, and the night goes by fast.

MJ learns that Karen lived in Fargan Corners, Vermont, but came to New York for school. The field she eventually wants to end up in is similar to what MJ does, but Karen got a job as a secretary before she moved so she can help her parents pay for university, despite them being wealthy.

It excites MJ to think that she could potentially have a new friend and a new study partner. It’s kind of hard to study with Peter when he is a complete brainiac.

As for Matt, he tells them about his dad, who raised him all by himself before he died about a decade ago. He was a boxer, but never made it big, and he made Matt swear to use his brains instead of fists to go through life. MJ notices Matt’s head tilting down sadly at the memory of his dad, but it perks up when he mentions that a friend of his from the law course has agreed to be his business partner once they graduate.

“ _If_ I can keep him from going into the family business and becoming a butcher, that is.” Matt laughs.

None of them look like they want to go back to the dorms, but MJ knows they should if they want to be alive during their classes, but as soon as she opens her mouth to suggest it, she is knocked to the ground, a loud booming followed by ringing in her ears.

Peter is on his feet immediately, reaching over to MJ to make sure she’s not hurt. He helps her up and once she reassures him that she’s fine, he looks over to where Matt and Karen are, and sees them looking disoriented, but not hurt.

His spider sense is going crazy, pounding in his head enough to make him feel dizzy.

“Mary Jane, you know what to do.” He turns to her again, trusting that she’ll understand what he means.

With a nod and a quick peck to his lips, he’s gone, as well as MJ’s heart until she will be able to see him again. But she has to focus.

As MJ makes her way over to her friends, she can see small grains of rubble falling from the rooftop like snow, making it hard to see in front of her. She shakes her head and a bunch of sand falls from her hair and she wipes her eyes, as there’s a layer of coarse dirt all over her.

When she’s finally next to Karen, she realizes Matt isn’t with her.

“Where’s Matt?!” MJ screams over the cacophony in the building.

“He was here a second ago, he just vanished!” Karen replies, voice going up in fear.

The room is filled with dust and shouting, and MJ knows there’s no time to lose.

“Okay,” She takes a deep breath. “Come on, we need to get all of these people out of here before this gets worse, we’re bound to find him in the crowd.”

“What about Peter?!” Karen starts to panic.

“He’s getting help. Come on!”

The two girls start to usher everybody out in the street, for fear of the rubble crushing them in the bar. Once MJ is sure that everybody has been evacuated, she looks around to see what could have caused the explosion.

The asphalt and sidewalk are slippery, and the people who were at the bar are having a hard time standing up straight, coughing and rubbing their eyes.

When she looks down, MJ can see that the ground is not wet. Instead, there is sand covering every inch of it, and a shiver runs down her spine, remembering what this means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

MJ never really paid any mind to where these nutjobs went after Spider-Man was done with them. How many of them get caught? How many of them can escape when they get caught? Where do they go? It makes MJ sick to her stomach thinking there’s a bunch of these freaks running wild in New York City. Selfishly, not for the safety of others as much as her fear for Peter.

MJ glances at Karen and she is as white as a ghost, arms crossed over her chest and staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk. She’s in complete shock. This is her first week in the city, so she’s not used to this type of thing like MJ unfortunately is.

Walking over to her, MJ places a hand on Karen’s shoulder, making her flinch.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, alright? Spider-Man is probably on his way.” MJ tries to reassure.

“Spider-Man. Is he the good guy?”

“Yeah, he is. You can trust him.”

MJ instinctively looks up at the sky. It takes her awhile to find him, but her eyes finally connect to a blue and red figure in the distance perched on a rooftop. He’s eyeing below to see if any more harm is to come.

Glancing over to the building next to where Peter is, MJ thinks she sees a familiar black silhouette, but the sound of debris collapsing on the street distracts her, getting her attention. When she looks back up again, the figure is gone. She wonders if her mind just made it up in this hectic situation.

As time keeps ticking on by, MJ starts to get more and more unsettled. She could have sworn that all this sand meant that The Sandman was near, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. It almost feels like this was a warning of what’s yet to come, and a shiver runs down MJ’s back.

The authorities arrive around 15 minutes later, and when they do, the sand beneath MJ’s feet starts to slowly blow away in the same direction, despite there being no wind. MJ looks around and seems to be the only one who notices.

Not before long, the people that were injured are taken away by ambulances, firemen start inspecting the damaged building, police officers isolate the area, the sand beneath them is completely gone, and things are calm again.

Karen is sitting on the curb, and MJ notices she’s trying to calm herself down, trying to even her breaths. Walking over to her, she sits down and places her hand on her back. As much as it’s helpful, MJ hates that she knows how to act in situations like this. No one should have to get used to living this way.

Once Karen seems to be breathing evenly, she looks and and sees Matt walking towards them from the other side of the street. She instantly rises to her feet and runs to him.

“Oh my God, Matt, where were you? Are you okay?” She asks, terrified, her hands placed on his upper arms.

MJ looks up, too, and relief washes over her. Matt doesn’t seems to be injured, the only thing different from when he was at the bar is his hair, which is now wind-swept, and his glasses, which are no longer on his face.

“I’m fine, Karen.” He soothes her. “I just got herded to the wrong direction, I guess. I’m okay.”

Both of them ask about Peter, and MJ tells them he must be getting pictures for the Bugle, hoping she sounds convincing. Karen nods her head in understanding, but there’s something about Matt’s stare that confuses her.

MJ can feel the familiar pressure of a hand on her lower back, and she turns her head to see Peter come up next to her, and fully relaxes for the first time since this all happened.

“We should all get home.” Peter suggests, and they all nod in agreement.

\---

“You okay?” Peter asks MJ as they walk into his bedroom, closing the door behind.

He takes both shirts off, discarding them to the side. MJ collects her thoughts before answering, grabbing his Spider-Man shirt from the floor and hiding it in his closet.

“I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing, but… I’m completely fine. I think-- I think I’m getting used to it.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, clearly not liking that this is MJ’s new norm. Seeing the concern in his eyes, MJ walks up to him.

“I think it’s good. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. And all this stuff-- All these crazy circumstances would happen whether or not I was Spider-Man’s girlfriend, living in this city. I just like helping in any way I can.” She raises her hand and runs it through Peter’s messy hair.

“As long as you don’t try and be the hero, and you put your safety above everything else.” He says.

“You’re one to talk.” MJ kids, but Peter doesn’t laugh.

“I’m serious, Mary Jane, alright? You don’t have super powers. If one of these lunatics takes a swing at you, you won’t be able to heal as fast as me.” He locks eyes with her.

“I know, I know.” She concedes, wrapping both of her arms around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“Why didn’t he show up? Why did he just take a blow to a few buildings and not do anything else?” Peter asks, not necessarily to MJ.

“There’s no use in torturing yourself with the unknown, tiger. Most you can do is just be prepared for anything. I’ll go a bit harder on you during our self defense classes.” MJ gives a soft smile and pecks his lips, and he smiles as well, despite himself.

They both crawl into bed and MJ takes out her laptop to work on a quick article on the events that happened tonight, and Peter cuddles up next to her, running his fingertips up and down her arm.

* * *

 

A couple of weeks pass, and Peter finally gets to show MJ the lab where he works.

She’s heard Peter talk about it enough, all of the state-of-the-art equipment and the genius that is Doctor Connors. MJ finds herself to be excited for it, even if her level of knowledge on science is what she learned in high school. Not that she can remember most of it.

Peter is bouncing up and down outside of MJ’s bedroom waiting for her to get ready, and Tracy chuckles from the living room.

“You know, a watched pot never boils, P.” She says, clearing some stuff off the couch to make room for him to sit.

“Who even says that anymore?” Peter asks, shooting her a glare, but moving over to the sofa when he realizes MJ is not going to come out in the next five seconds.

“I will have you know that expression is making a very strong comeback, thank you.” Tracy replies with a mock-appalled face. “I can’t help it that I’m way more hip than you.”

Peter rolls his eyes in reply, but Tracy continues the conversation.

“So, MJ says, like, you know that Spider-Man guy, sorta. You take pics of him. You should totally hook me up.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he tries his hardest not to laugh.

“You? And Spider-Man?” He questions.

“What? He’s hot.”

MJ pokes her head out of her bedroom to look at the two.

“Not in a million years, Trace.” She says, then closing her door again.

“You can’t have dibs, you already have a boyfriend!”

MJ finally walks out of her bedroom in a nice black blazer, some black skinny jeans, and boots.

“I need a backup plan.” MJ shrugs while grabbing one of her most professional-looking purses.

Peter and MJ’s eyes connect and he glares at her, then smiles.

“I’m not even mad. He’s quite the ladies man.” Peter adds while getting off the sofa to meet MJ at the door.

“He is not!” MJ smacks Peter on the arm. “I hear he’s got quite the girlfriend, to be honest.”

Tracy rolls her eyes then focuses on the television.

“You guys are weird.”

“You’ve got no idea.” Peter says and grabs MJ’s hand, making their way out the door.

* * *

 

“I’m nervous.” MJ admits as they walk to the subway.

“How come?” Peter looks down at her, still hand and hand.

“I don’t know. I’m going to be surrounded by intense nerds and I forgot I couldn’t microwave tinfoil last week.”

“You’ll do just fine. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Not to mention, you look really cute in this business attire.” Peter says as he let’s go of her hand to pinch her bottom quickly.

“Peter Parker!” MJ squeals.

They get to the lab in no time, and MJ has to get a visitor badge. The atmosphere is much more laid back, but it’s still impressive.

Peter walks her towards his lab, pressing his finger on the wall so that it reads his print and lets them in.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker.” A woman’s voice greets. “Ms. Watson is not authorized to access this part of the building.”

Peter gently takes MJ’s badge from her and inserts it into a slit in the wall, and types something on the built-in keyboard next to it. It beeps a couple of times, and then he removes the badge, handing it back.

“Welcome, Ms. Watson.”

“Sorry,” Peter says as they walk in. “Janice can be a little moody sometimes.”

MJ’s eyebrows shoot up. “And Janice is...?”

“The security system.” Peter clarifies as if it were obvious.

MJ makes an impressed face, and she feels like she’s in a science-fiction movie, thinking to herself that if aliens were to crash into the building, she wouldn’t be at all surprised.

Before they get any further, Peter hands MJ some safety goggles and a white lab coat to wear, and he puts on some of his own.

There are two other people in the lab; they must be interns like Peter. The boy is looking through a microscope and the girl is writing something on a whiteboard that MJ definitely knows can’t be English.

“Mary Jane, these are the others selected from ESU, Glory and Ned.”

Glory gives a smile and nod to MJ, but Ned doesn’t lift his face from the microscope.

Peter takes MJ over to his desk and rolls her a chair to sit in. He shows her what he has been working on, a nanosensor that detects heart attacks before they even happen. He explains that he's trying to come up with a chip smaller than a grain of sand that can be injected into a person's arm, from where it would travel down to a fingertip and embed itself there. It would monitor the person's health, blood flow and pressure, sending a warning to their smartphone or tablet at the earliest sign of a heart attack, before the person can feel it, giving them enough time to seek medical care. It all looks fascinating. MJ sometimes forgets how brilliant he really is.

MJ asks a lot of questions, which Peter seems thrilled with, answering them excitedly and often getting up from his desk to take something and show it to her to try and demonstrate it further.

About an hour into everything, the sound of the sliding door fills the room, and Peter and MJ look up to see who’s entering.

“I saw your name on the visitors list and I had to come say hi.” Eddie says as he wanders in.

MJ fidgets awkwardly. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Don’t mind me though, get back to whatever it is that you were doing. I need to talk to Ned. Ned, can you come with me? Bring one of the sample.” Eddie says before turning around. “It was nice to see you, freckles.” He adds before leaving with the flustered microscope guy trailing behind.

“Freckles?!” Peter whispers, his eyebrow raising.

“No clue.” Says MJ.

Peter leads her throughout the rest of their lab, and it reminds her of when they went on the field trip, him showing her a bunch of different machines and what they’re used for.

Something in his pocket buzzes, and Peter gets paged to visit Doctor Connors in his private lab for a moment. He gives MJ a kiss on the cheek and assures he’ll be back soon.

MJ walks around the lab a bit more. Seeing digital chalkboards littered with Peter’s messy handwriting, piles and piles of papers everywhere, and computers with indecipherable code on them.

Despite the room being pretty small, there are quite a few things in here, each with their own section that’s cornered off so it’s a bit more private. MJ has looked through Peter’s thoroughly, and Glory seems to be invested in something in her area.

Finding herself drifting over to Ned’s area, she wonders what was so interesting about what he was focusing on that he couldn’t even say hi to her.

Although knowing it’s probably not very nice to snoop, the journalist in her wants to see what he was so immersed in. Her eyes shift back and forth to make sure no one is near her before she enters his space.

It’s pretty tidy, unlike Peter’s nook, with papers neatly stacked on top of each other. When MJ ‘accidentally’ bumps into the computer so it turns on, she’s disappointed when a screen pops up requesting a password to start up.

She bites her lip, a little ashamed at what she’s doing, but not enough to leave. Making a point to be very quiet, she rolls every drawer out and opens all the cupboards. There are only sections for supplies, some stationery, and nothing really seems out of the ordinary.

Huffing out some air in defeat, MJ straightens up and decides to just leave. Scanning the room one last time, her eyes land on a door that she didn’t realize was there. It’s the same colour as the wall so it blends in all the way back in the corner, making it unnoticeable unless you were looking.

Taking another peek to make sure that nobody is coming, she walks up to it, hand on the knob, and twists it.

It opens easily.

The space is a lot larger than she thought it would be, with a high ceiling and tiled floor. There are dozens of cages and tanks filled with mice, snakes, and other small creatures. The number of science equipment seems to double the outside’s.

MJ doesn’t remember Peter having his own separate door to an even bigger lab, and she doesn’t even need to know the other two interns to know that Peter is the most brilliant out of all of them. Why wouldn’t he get the extended lab?

The further MJ goes into the hidden lab, the weirder things get. She sees metal tools straight out of horror movies lying around on trays, jars filled with thick-looking liquid where different parts of animals float in, and she sticks her tongue out, making a disgusted sound.

She finally makes it to the very end, and she sees a metal compartment that looks something like an oven. There’s a tiny slit that acts as a window, but the glass is so thick that it’s hard to make out what’s inside. Getting closer, eyes right next to the glass, she squints, and all she can see is something black right in the middle.

It looks strange, but not more than the rest of the things she’s seen so far. As she straightens up and looks away, though, she thinks whatever is in the oven has moved. Looking back inside, she strains her eyes even more, but nothing happens.

Suddenly, the black gel-like substance leaps forward and smacks right against the window, and MJ lunges backwards. Her hands land on the table behind her to steady herself from the fright, and she bumps right on a microscope, opening up a glass slide.

It contained about a drop of that black substance inside, and now that it’s free, it attaches to MJ’s finger. Panic starts to set in, and she frantically shakes her hand to get rid of it. It takes one hell of a struggle until finally the foreign goo flings off.

Wanting to get out of here as fast as she can, she runs the opposite way to the exit, not noticing the blob attaching to her handbag on the way out.

* * *

 

It’s clear that Glory didn’t notice MJ’s absence, and neither Ned nor Peter are back by the time MJ safely plants herself on a chair in Peter’s lab. It gives her time to steady her breath and convince herself that that... thing, whatever the hell it was, could be completely harmless, and by the time Peter gets back, she’s calmed down.

“Hey, Red, sorry about that,” He says, putting his hand on her shoulder as he sits next to her. “Doctor Connors wanted me to go over some equations I showed him the other day. What did you get up to while I was gone?”

“Not much.” MJ gives a quick smile.

MJ leaves the lab with a bunch of notes so she can write an article about it on some obscure page in the Bugle, but she’s proud of Peter. She can tell he’s proud of himself, too. It’s nice.

They go their separate ways; MJ back to the dorms to get started on the article, and Peter stays in the lab, wanting to work a bit later because there was some sort of break-through.

When MJ gets back, Tracy is in the dining room, busy with homework, so MJ takes out her laptop and joins her, throwing her handbag into her bedroom.

* * *

 

“Mr. Parker, you’ve been here for hours. It might be time to give your brain a break?” Doctor Connors suggests as he’s about to leave the lab for the night.

“O--Oh, yeah. Good idea, sir.” Peter says as he takes his eyes off of his computer for the first time since MJ left.

He stretches out in his chair, not realizing he has been hunched over for so long. Closing up and gathering his things, Peter takes to the streets of New York. Night has now fallen on the city now, but it’s still booming like it always is.

He finds himself a secluded alley to change into his suit and patrol the streets for a little longer till he heads home. Once he’s fully changed, he gets ready to swing off into the sky, but he should’ve known today couldn’t have been that easy.

Spider sense.

Before he knows it, someone jumps on Peter's back, knocking him right to the ground. It takes him a second to get his bearings, but he's quickly back up on his feet, eyes glued to the massive shadowed figure at the end of the alleyway.

Thanks for the heads up, spider senses…

"We have been watching you, Spider-Man." A thundering voice says. "Too long have you stood in our way, but now we shall weave the web and you shall be caught as a helpless fly."

Peter sighs loudly in annoyance, but takes a fighting stance, muscles going taut.

"Please tell me 'we' means you and tiny little puppies." He quips, looking around to find a way to trap his opponent and keep him from reaching the street.

"You have mocked me once, humiliated me before the eyes of the world, but that stops soon, Spider. Defeat is upon you."

With that, he charges forward like a bull, and Peter recognizes him when his face comes into the light. The snarl. The god awful goatee. The wild cat print on his clothing. It's Kraven The Hunter, one of the first non-purse-snatching baddies he's fought with.

Except that he looks much bigger now, and his eyes wilder. Like an animal who has been caged up for far too long.

Jumping up and attaching himself to the wall of a building to avoid being hit, Peter immediately makes a net of webbing and throws it at Kraven, who tears through it like it was made of paper.

“So, Simba, when you say ‘we’, who are you talking about?” Peter asks, getting nervous.

“We would rather you not be here when our plan unfolds. You musn’t get in our way! Now get down from there.” Kraven hollers beneath Peter who is still perched up on the wall.

“Now, now, I'm sure we can talk this out.” Peter says, not budging.

“Alright. If you do not come down here, Spider-Man, I will go out there.” The large man says, running out of the alley and onto a busy street.

“Dammit…” Peter groans, following Kraven, who is now wreaking havoc in the open.

The wild man jumps on top of cars and is starting to cause crashes. Peter swings by and shoots some webbing towards his hands, but Kraven jumps down from the vehicle to dodge it.

He then lunges for the fire hydrants and breaks them with his bare hands, sending water gushing into the air, impairing everyone's visibility.

Peter yells to the civilians around so that they'll get away and isolates the street so that no more cars can drive in unknowingly.

Police sirens start to fill the air as a crowd of people gather up at the far end of the road to watch the fight, and the officers have to push through them to get to the scene.

"Out of the way! Stand back!"

The NYPD start to make a barricade around the scene, having SWAT teams getting closer.

Growling, Kraven grabs whatever he can and throws it at Peter; gravel, broken vehicle parts, parking meters, anything that's lying around near him.

Peter manages to catch a few, and he whips them right back, hitting Kraven enough to make him lose his balance. Seizing the opportunity, Peter lunges forward and uses all of his strength to try and immobilize the other man, but he's repeatedly thrown to the ground.

Unrelenting, he gets up again and the two men are now inches away from each other, eyes locked and breathing harshly, studying each other to anticipate the next move.

To Peter's surprise, instead of pouncing on him, Kraven moves to the side and grabs hold of a terrified man that was trying to run the opposite direction. He’s now in a choke hold, with Peter feet in front of him, his breath heavy, his muscles exhausted.

“Surrender. Or you’ll be the cause of this innocent man’s death.”

Peter weighs out his options a dozen times in his head, but one quick jerking of Kraven's hands and the man’s neck will be snapped. There’s nothing he can do.

He’s just about to step forward when a black whirr in the night jumps out and something hits against Kraven The Hunter’s head, hard.

It isn’t enough to knock him out, but it does make him dizzy and he loosens his grip on the pedestrian so that they’re able to run free.

The black figure lands next to Peter.

“Hey, Spidey. Thought you could use some help.”

Though still not knowing the masked man's identity, Peter can't help but feel a wave of relief at his presence since he helped with MJ. And it helps that his spider sense doesn't go off when he's around. It nags at the back of his mind, though; there's got to be more to this guy.

Kraven looks incredulous when he finally comes to, head shaking from side to side.

"No, it can't be... You were meant to work alone! This… This doesn’t change anything!"

He starts backing away.

"You will meet your match, Spider-Man! This changes nothing!"

Turning around, he runs towards the police officers and civilians, and there’s a clear, steady voice among the frightened whispering of the people.

"This is detective Cooper," a woman says into a police radio. "Requesting backup, I repeat, requesting backup!"

Kraven makes a beeline to her, looking back to Peter and the masked man to make sure they are looking at him, and then grabs the woman with both of his hands, raising her high up from the ground, and throwing her against a nearby building with all of his might.

Both Peter and the masked man flinch at the sound of breaking bones, and the crowd around watching gasp in unison in horror.

The crazy man flees the scene, with a dozen cop cars in pursuit. Knowing that Kraven will not be back any time soon, he decides against following and instead goes to check on the woman.

“Carlie…? CARLIE?” Peter makes out MJ's voice somewhere, screaming.

He swivels his head from one side to another among the people and finally recognizes MJ rushing out from the crowd, pushing an officer who is trying to contain her.

“What are you doing here?!” Peter whisper-yells.

“I obviously came down as soon as I heard about it on the TV. This is Carlie Cooper, my friend. You have to take her to the hospital. Now!”

Peter looks down at the woman’s broken body and his heart sinks.

“I… I don’t know if I should move her. That could do more harm than good.”

MJ looks down helplessly at her unconscious friend.

"W-We... We have to do something..." She babbles, “By the time the ambulances get here it could be too late, we have to..."

She starts to feel her body weaken, memories of Gwen rushing back from long ago, and she finds it hard to stand up. Before she can even show it, though, the masked man gently takes hold of her arm and guides her to the curb, lowering her down, as if knowing.

"You should sit down, miss, we don't want you passing out here."

MJ looks up at his half-covered face and remembers him from the night she was taken. She and Peter have talked about him and his intentions again and again, wondering if he’s really on their side, but whenever he’s around, or she sees him being mentioned on the news, MJ can’t help but have a good feeling about him. And now that they’re so close, she almost feels like she knows him from somewhere else...

As Peter comes to kneel in front of her, the masked man turns to Carlie and places his hands on her body, moving them over certain areas as if to feel for something, and his head bows, lips pursing.

"Is she okay?" Peter asks, and MJ turns to look.

The man in black pauses for a second, swallowing hard, before speaking.

"She's very badly hurt, but I think she'll live."

MJ lets out a breath of relief, and the sound of paramedics rushing towards them is the cue they need to leave immediately.

Peter tilts his head towards a secluded road and MJ gets the message. They can’t be seen leaving together, they’ve been spotted with one another one too many times for it to be a coincidence.

Spider-Man swings away and MJ tries to make her way through the dispersing crowd. The masked man stays behind, tending to the people the paramedics haven’t gotten to, yet. It takes a solid half an hour in order to get to the street, and just like she knew he would be, she sees Peter’s silhouette in the moonlight leaning against a building.

Before MJ makes it all the way to him, she can’t help but blurt out her thoughts.

“I have to go see her. I have to make sure she’s going to be okay.”

“Mary Jane, she’s probably going into surgery. We don’t even know which hospital--”

“I have to try.”

Peter looks at her, biting his lip. After a few moments, he relents, sliding his mask back down his face.

“Hold on tight.”

Grabbing her waist in the familiar way he does, they shoot up into the air.

Peter follows the sound of the sirens, and since the commotion has put civilians, reporters, news vans and first responders on the streets, the ambulance hasn’t made it too far and they’re able to catch up to it.

Not long after, the vehicle pulls up into the hospital, and Peter lands them down near it.

“You don’t have to come.” MJ tells him, but he’s already changing into his regular clothes.

“Let’s go.”

He grabs her hand and they enter the building together.

The ER is bursting with people, and it’s hard to discern who works there and who doesn’t.

Peter hurries up to the reception counter, where a lonely nurse looks swamped, with all of the phones ringing and charts to be filled, rushing doctors yelling out requests for her to fulfill.

“Excuse me, sir?” Peter tries to get the young man’s attention. “Can you tell me where they’ve taken Carlie Cooper?”

“Are you family?” The nurse replies promptly, but the tone of his voice makes it clear he’s not happy about being interrupted.

“Uh, no, she’s a friend of mine, and--”

“Sorry, information is to family only.”

He turns away from Peter and continues his job, and MJ walks up looking determined.

“Excuse me, I’m a reporter for the Daily Bugle,” she raises her voice above the sound of ringing phones, Bugle badge in hand so the nurse can see it. “NYPD detective Carlie Cooper has been admitted and I need information on her state.”

The nurse sighs in resignation.

“Look, all I can tell you is that there’s a bunch of cops camped out on the ICU waiting area up on the third floor.”

MJ doesn’t even wait for the sentence to end before she’s running up the stairway, Peter right behind her.

Once they’re able to find the police officers, MJ approaches them.

“Do you know anything about Carlie? Carlie Cooper?” MJ’s voice wavers.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to wait outside.” An older cop stands up from his chair, leading her into the waiting lounge.

“I’m a friend, I need to know what’s going on.” MJ tries again. “Please.”

There’s a pause, then finally a sigh.

“It doesn’t look good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Description of Violence
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry we've been gone for so long. Life got in the way. Seeing as it's holidays right now, we'll be gone for a bit more... BUT, we wanted to give you this one chapter before we leave again. Once we're back though, we won't leave until the fic is done. ENJOY. <3

MJ wakes up to a crick in her neck, and she sits up, rubbing at her sore muscles.

Peter is sitting next to her, head lolled over the back of waiting room couch where they spent the night.

The floor is still filled with policemen, so MJ figures there has been no developments since she’s fallen asleep.

Getting up and moving to the coffee machine, she fills up two paper cups and walks back to the sofa, placing them on the side table and gently stirring Peter awake.

He wakes up with a jolt, but calms down as soon as he remembers where they are and why they’re here.

Taking the coffee from the table, he reaches for his phone and sees a message from Matt.

 _Your aunt dropped by this morning to leave you food and take your laundry home to wash._  
_I’m pretty sure she also took my clothes along; my hamper feels strangely light._

_So I’ve eaten the homemade cookies she left for you._

_And I’m also thinking of adopting her._

_\- Matt_

“Huh, that’s weird.” Peter says, showing MJ the message. “Aunt May has never done that. And what the hell is she doing going all the way into the city from Queens?”

They spend the day at the hospital, but the doctors say it’ll be a few days before Carlie can wake up and receive visitors, and weeks for them to know if she’ll sustain any sequelae, so Peter and MJ decide to go home.

Their lives have been so hectic lately that work and school have taken a back seat, and both of them have a lot to catch up on.

As soon as MJ arrives at her dorm, she walks up to her desk and turns her laptop on, hoping to catch Adrian on Skype. They’ve been scheduling modeling gigs for her with weeks to spare, so MJ can slowly get back into the swing of things, and her next job is set to happen in a couple day’s time.

“Excited for your next shoot?” Adrian asks once they go over the dates.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” MJ confesses. “It’s been a while.”

“Well, you were always a natural at it, I doubt you’ll have a hard time.” He says warmly, but continues a bit more seriously. “This could bring you back to the top of the game.”

\---

MJ wakes up early on the day of the photoshoot, too nervous to stay in bed for long. She kisses Peter goodbye as he goes to the lab, and since she’s not meant to be at the studio until late in the afternoon, she decides to make the most out of her extra time.

Recruiting Tracy to help, MJ prepares a whole quick spa treatment for herself, complete with hair masks, face masks, cucumber eye patches, manicure and pedicure and full body hair removal.

“Boy, am I glad I got _you_ as a roommate,” Tracy says as she rips a strip of wax from the back of MJ’s thigh, earning a groan from her.

“Hey, nothing says ‘friendship’ like trusting someone else to violently yank your hair from sensitive body parts. You should be flattered.” MJ retorts, not missing a beat.

Tracy rolls her eyes affectionately, and tears another strip from MJ’s skin, wincing in sympathy at the other one’s painful string of expletives.

Once they’re done with their treatments and Tracy decides MJ’s hair has been sufficiently zhuzhed, they say their goodbyes with a promise that MJ will text her everything about the day.

As MJ walks into the photographer’s studio, she notices herself feeling much less anxious, and Adrian looks delighted to see her.

“You are looking even better than before,” he greets, leaning in to kiss her cheeks. “I guess being in a relationship suits you.”

MJ shifts a bit uncomfortably at his comment, remembering his and Peter’s awkward interactions a while back, and she wonders if he means it. But her thoughts are interrupted nearly as soon as they pop up by the photographer’s annoyed sigh; they need to get started on the shoot.

It takes a few minutes for MJ to warm up and get attuned to what the campaign is about and the desires of the photographer, but once she finds her rhythm it’s like she’s never stopped. She can be completely free and unapologetic, her body doing all of the work without her even having to think.

She’s missed this and how it makes her feel. The pictures on the magazines and on big billboards all over town are of no importance, and can even make her feel embarrassed and not worthy of all the attention; what matters is having this as an outlet for the things she can’t quite put into words.

\---

Peter has been very distracted lately, with the lab and the mysterious super villain sightings every now and then. Except nothing drastic happens when they appear. They just come, ruin a monumental area of town, and leave. It’s unsettling and makes Peter stay up at night, whether that be in bed or out on the streets.

On the nights they decide to spend together, MJ tries to ignore her waking up feeling for Peter’s body next to her and her disappointment when it’s not there. She’s not able to sleep at all when that happens, too worried about him out there.

One night when MJ wakes and Peter’s gone, she hears soft, quiet whispering in the living room of Peter’s dorm. She grabs one of Peter’s shirts to drape over herself and ventures out to see what the noise is.

Karen and Matt are sitting on the couch, their knees lightly brushing one another’s, both with a cup of something in their hands. MJ glances over at the clock hanging in the kitchen to see it’s just past 2 in the morning.

Matt, surprisingly, is the first to notice her.

“Hey, MJ. Can’t sleep either?” He asks, his face in her general direction, making Karen look as well.

“No, not really.” She replies with a shrug.

“I came over, too.” Karen joins. “There was another lunatic running rampage through the city. I was terrified, but Matt just got home a couple of minutes ago and I didn’t feel like being alone, so he made me some hot cocoa. Want some?” She gives a smile.

“Sure.” MJ replies returning a grin, and Karen gets up to grab her a cup. “Why were you out so late, Murdock?” MJ raises an eyebrow.

“Law study group ran late.” Matt says quickly.

MJ nods, and Karen comes over to hand her some of the hot chocolate with a few marshmallows on top. With a thank you, both girls wander back to the couch, three night owls keeping each other company with unsettlement resting deep in their bellies.

“Where’s Peter?” Matt asks, almost quizzical.

“I think he had to get something from the lab, I don’t know, it was too late to comprehend.” MJ tries to think on her feet.

“Aren’t you scared that he’s out there? I mean, everything has settled down a bit, but...” Karen furrows her eyebrows.

“Every day.” MJ says softly, looking down at her drink.

But almost as if on cue, Peter walks through the front door, making a little too much noise than one would think would be okay at this hour.

“Pete!” MJ places the hot cocoa on the coffee table, getting up to welcome him with a huge hug.

“Hey, babe.” He kisses her cheek. “Man, what is up with people out there right now? It feels like everybody is hopped up on Red Bull or something. I mean, New York is New York, but I barely see it that busy, let alone that hectic even in daylight.” Peter unloads, not noticing the other occupants of the couch.

“I was down there not too long ago, as well. The energy definitely feels... _Different_. I don’t know what it is. Maybe just general panic from all the commotion lately?” Matt chimes in.

Before anyone has time to speak again, there’s a loud thud sound across the hall; it sounds like it has come from MJ’s dorm.

They all look startled, Matt and Karen immediately get up from the couch and the four of them slowly peek outside into the hallway. MJ starts to walk towards her dorm, but Peter grabs her hand. He pauses for a moment, but then he decides, despite himself, not to insult her by saying anything like _‘you wait here while I check’_ , so instead they just walk together, hand in hand.

MJ inserts her keys, and quickly opens the door, both of them searching inside with their friends behind them.

Tracy is standing in the kitchen, looking below in bewilderment to their fridge that is now lying horizontally on the floor, half of its contents spilled over the tiles.

“Trace?” MJ asks, confused, while entering the place.

“I don’t… I don’t know what just happened. I was-- I just woke up and I was getting something to drink and when I went to open the fridge door the _entire freakin’ thing_ just fell over? Dude, am I _that_ strong?”

Peter walks over to the fridge, giving MJ a concerned look on his way. She moves to the other side and they all help lift the appliance so it stands upright again.

“Are you okay?” MJ asks her.

“Besides finding out that I’m basically _Hercules_? I’m fine.”

Matt and Karen are now standing in the doorway, and as Karen offers to help clean up the mess on the floor, Matt goes over to the window, opening it and sticking his head out.

From the corner of his eye, Peter notices the other’s head moving slightly from one side to another as if trying to catch any sounds, and a feeling of deja vu sets over him, like he’s seen someone do that somewhere else.

Before he can dwell too much on it, though, the sound of breaking glass catches his attention; a previously unbroken jar of olives now lies shattered on the kitchen floor.

“Ugh, sorry, my bad.” Karen apologizes. “It must’ve slipped from my hand.”

Matt rushes over and reaches for her hand, running his thumb over the cut, able to feel the warm stickiness of blood.

“We should get this cleaned up.” He says, concerned.

“Nah, I’m good.” Karen says, rubbing her hand on a nearby dish rag.

“Who even likes olives anyways?” Peter adds, grossed out.

“Umm, me.” MJ pretends to be offended.

“Yeah, but you’re weird.”

Despite the unusual events of tonight, MJ feels warmth at being surrounded by so many people she cares about.

\---

A couple of uneventful days pass and MJ decides to check up on Carlie on her free period, sure that enough time has passed that she’s allowed visitors now.

While the streets seem to be fairly normal, with people rushing by to and fro in the same chaoticness she’s learned to feel at home in, as she walks through the hospital, MJ notices it’s a lot more busy than usual. Even more so than after that night Kraven The Hunter attacked, and that’s saying a lot.

She overhears the hospital staff talking about which patients need to go where and which supplies are needed in the different areas.

Bizarre things happen, such as people in the waiting rooms accidentally ripping chairs that are bolted down right off, or nurses looking dumbfounded at their unsuccessful suturing, claiming the needles and threads just give in and dismantle themselves at their slightest grip.

One man is screaming at the top of his lungs despite a nurse swearing she gave him anesthesia.

It makes it hard to get through the overwhelming amount of people, with the ones not acting weirdly piling up to gape at the ones that are, but MJ finally makes it to Carlie’s room.

When she enters, it takes everything she has to not cover her mouth and gasp at the sight of her friend.

Lying in the narrow hospital bed, Carlie’s body is covered in bandages, and her legs are hidden underneath a thin-looking blanket, but she can see the outline of large casts covering both of them. Machines beep all around her monitoring her heartbeat and breathing, and her face looks bruised.

The table next to be bed is covered with flowers and get-well cards, and as she gets closer to it, an extravagant bouquet of flowers and a card she remembers the handwriting of call her attention. Not because it’s his, but it’s his assistant who writes all his cards for him.

_Harry._

She looks over to the sad state of her friend to see she’s sound asleep, and gnaws on her lip a little. MJ tells herself to not snoop, it isn’t her place, but she knows that her curiosity will always get the better of her.

Wishing she were bigger than this, she quietly walks towards the card, fingering the soft paper with her thumb, and her eyes glance onto the words.

_This wasn’t supposed to happen to you._

_I am so sorry._

There’s no name, but MJ is sure that it’s from Harry. The message is so incredibly cryptic, a shiver runs down her spine.

MJ sits on the visitor’s chair as it doesn’t seem like Carlie will be waking up soon, and tries not to freak out at the whole situation.

MJ knew that the two of them were friends, and maybe even went out a couple times, but he hasn’t really kept in contact with anybody since his nervous breakdown, has he? Even so, _what_ wasn’t supposed to happen to her?

It’s all too much for MJ.

She sits uneasily for a couple hours before a doctor walks into the room, an annoyed nurse trailing behind him.

“Excuse me, are you family?” She asks, a frown on her face and hand on her hip.

“Yes, I am.” MJ lies without even thinking, standing up from her chair. “What exactly is her state? I can’t seem to get a straight answer from anyone here, and I’d really hate to have to call our family attorney to get this resolved.”

The nurse’s eyes widen at MJ’s tone as the doctor steps forward resignedly.

“Why don’t we speak outside?” He says, and her heart pounds in her chest; this can’t mean anything good.

He leads her into a private waiting area and sits across from her, hands laced together over his knees.

“Ms. Cooper has suffered… extensive injuries, including a severe head trauma and internal bleeding. If she wakes up, there may be complications stemming from that.”

As she listens, MJ’s head feels light, and the edges of her vision start to black out in shock, but she makes a fist and digs her nails into her palms to try and bring her focus back.

“And there’s also the matter of her legs.” The doctor continues, and MJ doesn’t register the graver tone his voice takes.

“Yeah, I saw the casts. How long will she have them on for?” She asks, trying to get as much information out of him as she can.

“Approximately six weeks, maybe eight.”

“That’s a long time. Will she need to do physical therapy after to get the muscles going again?”

The doctor takes off his square glasses and rubs his face before speaking up again.

“Ms. Cooper will never walk again.”

\---

MJ doesn’t really know how, but she suddenly finds herself walking into her dorm room building, going straight to Peter’s.

The door is unlocked, and she enters without closing it behind her, immediately laying down on the couch as if she can’t hold her weight anymore.

The last thing she remembers is hearing a doctor say that Carlie is never going to walk again, and from there her memories are hazy. She recalls being given a glass of water at the hospital, then curses being shouted at her from bumping into people on the way back, and next thing she knows she’s home.

“Pete?” She calls out to the apartment, but no reply comes. She tries to reach for her phone in her pocket, but drops it on the ground and she can’t seem to be able to grab it from where she is.

Her limbs are too heavy and her vision is too foggy, so she decides to place her head between her knees to see if it helps.

“MJ?”

She hears a deep voice calling her, and feels a hand gently on her back.

Startling, she straightens up abruptly, and regrets it immediately as her neck protests.

The room is now dark, nighttime already settled in, and it takes her a few seconds to recognize it’s Matt sitting next to her.

“Are you okay?” He asks, worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” MJ lies, getting up to turn on the lights in the living room.

“You sure?” He insists. “You don’t sound it. Wanna talk?”

And at that, MJ crumbles, word-vomiting everything that happened as she paces around the room, and Matt patiently listens.

“She’s never going to walk again!” MJ raises her voice in disbelief as she sits back down on the sofa. “How can anyone live like that? What is she gonna do? She’s _a police officer!”_

After MJ finally runs out of things to say with those questions hanging in the air, Matt speaks up.

“Being disabled isn’t the end of the world, you know.”

MJ instantly feels bad for what she said, having forgotten for a moment that it’s Matt she was talking to. Matt, who’s spent most of his life with a disability.

“I mean, it’s not easy. I would give anything to see the sky one more time, and most people take that for granted all their lives. And some days I’m so sick of it that don’t want to get up, but I do have a lot of good in my life. Even if I can’t see it.” He quips, and MJ appreciates that he’s not being preachy.

“And, from what you told me, this friend of yours is extraordinarily strong.” He continues. “She’ll manage.”

MJ takes a moment and looks at her new friend. He has dark eyes, dark stubble, dark hair, but he looks soft, warm. Even if she’s only known Matt for a short while, she can’t picture life without him in it anymore.

Despite herself, a smile sneaks onto her lips, and MJ gives him a big hug.

“You’re right. She can do this.” MJ says confidently.

\---

MJ is at another shoot, modelling some new, up-and-coming clothing brand. It has been a couple of hours and she’s getting restless.

“Get that fan on higher, her hair isn’t flowy enough!” The photographer shouts at no one in particular, but a teenage-looking assistant immediately rushes over to fix it, going back to the corner of the room without so much as glancing up.

When it’s time for another wardrobe change and MJ walks over to the clothes rack, she hears the same irritated voice call out from behind her; apparently she’s now taking too long to put on her clothes.

She glares a bit, wondering how fast this photographer would be able to get into skintight leather pants and a corset with lacing as long as the Chrysler Building were he in MJ’s shoes, but she takes a deep breath and returns to her spot.

It’s coming onto the fourth hour when MJ starts to lose her cool.

“Arch your back more. More! Dammit, woman, do you ever listen?” The photographer growls.

MJ gets up from the chair she’s sitting on and walks quickly towards the slender looking man, backing him up into the wall.

“How about you treat me with some _respect_ , huh?” His back lays flat against the wall, MJ mere inches from him. “I don’t care HOW important you are! I am sick of how you treat everybody!”

It isn’t until Adrian is rushing towards her that she snaps out of it.

“How about we have a break? I think a break is needed.” He grabs MJ’s upper arm, steering her away into a different room with force.

MJ’s vision get blurry, bottled up rage threatening to spill out again.

“What the heck has gotten into you? Everyone knows photographers can be dicks. You’ve experienced it before. What’s up?” Adrian looks cross.

“So, just because they’re assholes it means I have to shut up and take that kind of bullshit?!” MJ shouts.

“Can you be quiet? Do you want to get us fired?!”

The same young intern comes walking into the room, with a glass of water.

“Here you go, MJ, I thought you could use a drink.” He gives a small smile.

MJ goes to grab the glass and it shatters in her hand. The young boy’s eyes widen, looking terrified, and exits as fast as he entered.

This seems to sober MJ too, ashamed at the diva she’s being. She looks up at Adrian and he looks concerned now.

He puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Is everything alright with you and Peter?” His voice sounds patronizing, and MJ’s had enough.

“ _Ugh_!”

She storms out, her feet stomping on the floor, and it makes the makeup artist’s vanity shake, sending bottles of foundation knocking over and spilling everywhere.

MJ has never been quick to anger, not like this. She gets annoyed with the best of them, but it’s always been very hard to actually enrage her to the point where she feels her blood boiling in her veins. She has always hated the stereotype about ‘redheads’ and their ‘tantrums,' as MJ never had them.

But recently everything has been making her blow a fuse, and she doesn’t even know why.

Hiding in the bathroom of the photoshoot studio, she turns on the tap and sprays herself with water to try and calm down, wiping away her running makeup on a face towel.

A few minutes go by and there’s a soft tap on the door; some assistant calling MJ back to the shoot.

Taking one last deep breath, MJ opens to door and finishes the job, the photographer getting all the shots he needs.

\---

Deciding to walk back home to see if that clears her head, MJ notices little weird things here and there on the streets. Not enough to make her freak out, but she definitely makes a note of them in her head.

Among the things she sees is a child, no older than ten, lift up two bicycles and throw them to the side in a fight with friends. Now, bikes aren't the heaviest objects around, especially kid-sized ones, and she only saw the scene from the corner of her eye, but it left an uneasy feeling in her stomach regardless.

Once she arrives home and sets her things on her bed, her phone notifies her of a text from Peter, asking if she wants to spend the night, as Matt is going over to Karen's to "study."

Smiling despite herself, MJ quickly grabs her pyjamas, her phone and it's charger, and walks the few steps across the hall to Peter's dorm.

"So, Matt is totally into Karen, isn't he?" Peter asks in lieu of a greeting when he sees MJ cross the threshold of the apartment.

She chuckles as she bends down to give him a kiss, then sitting next to him on the couch, her legs resting on his lap.

"Jealous, are we?" She teases as Peter takes her feet in his hands to give her a massage.

"Pfft, I just know a suspicious situation when I see one. Why is he going to study with her if they have different majors?"

"Fair enough." MJ replies, finding it hard to focus on the conversation with the way Peter is rubbing her feet.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes until she needs to get up and use the restroom, and when she comes back, she speaks up in a more serious tone.

"Have you noticed anything weird happening lately?" She starts, sitting back down.

"Well, I fight evil animal-men hybrids for a living, my life is always weird." Peter jokes, but drops it when he sees MJ's slight frown. "What's been going on, Red?"

MJ sighs deeply and rubs her temple before continuing.

"That's the thing, I don't know. But between the strange people I saw at the hospital when I went to see Carlie, what happened to Tracy and what I did today at the shoot, I just know something is up."

“What happened at the shoot?” Peter immediately sits upright, as if to battle everything negative that comes MJ’s way.

“Nothing big, I just snapped at the photographer; he was a complete jerk. Normally I can suppress that stuff, but something inside of me, it was like… A wild animal threatening to burst out.”

Peter looks concerned, holding her hand in his a little too tightly.

“It might just be me finally realizing that the world is a crazy place now, who knows. I just want you to be extra cautious, okay?”

“Mmhmmm…” Peter gives, mind elsewhere.

MJ can see the worry in his eyes and it’s not what she wanted to do. So, she decides to get his mind off of it.

“How ‘bout we go crash Karen’s? See if Matt is cheating on you.” MJ jokes, making Peter cheer up considerably.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.’

The both of them walk out into the hall and go to the very end, knocking on Karen’s door.

“House keeping!” Peter exclaims in a high pitch voice, and MJ can’t help but laugh.

Less than a few seconds later they hear a yelp and a thud from inside the apartment, and Matt’s voice calling Karen’s name.

Peter’s face goes blank, and MJ freezes in her spot. Turning the doorknob, which is luckily unlocked, the both of them rush into her dorm.

They find Matt hunched over Karen who is kneeling on the floor clutching onto her shoulder. Matt looks extremely worried, and Karen in pain.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks, running over.

“There’s something wrong with my shoulder…” Karen says through gritted teeth.

“What happened?!”

“I don’t know, we were just sitting on the couch, and I reached over to grab the remote and I just felt this pain.”

Matt is frowning right next to her, hand gently going through her hair to try and distract her a bit from the hurt.

“We should really get you to the hospital, you’ve dislocated it.” He says matter-of-factly, and that makes MJ look at him.

“How do you know that?” She asks, suspiciously.

Matt straightens up a bit, eyebrows raising slightly. “I just mean, it sounds like it from how much pain Karen’s in.”

Peter bends down to help Karen up, and MJ grabs her phone to call a cab to take them to the hospital, but something about the way Matt talked lingers in the back of her mind.

The three of them sit with Karen in the waiting area of the local ER, and MJ helps fill out the chart with all the information necessary, but it isn’t long until Karen is called inside by a nurse.

It turns out Matt was right, and Karen really did dislocate her shoulder. She has a sling around her arm and a prescription for some painkillers, but she insists it barely hurts anymore.

“Karen, are you sure you don’t want to take anything?” Matt asks her as they all enter her dorm room.

“I promise I’m fine, Matt. I guess I just heal really fast.” She replies. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I could totally move my arm if I didn’t have this thing on.”

“Let’s not do that.” MJ chimes in, sitting on Peter’s lap, as the couch has been completely taken by Karen, and one of the two lounge chairs in the room by Matt.

“You know what’s weird, though?” Karen asks after a few minutes of easy silence. “I swear the doctor that put my arm back was, like, a superhero.”

Peter’s head perks up, and MJ notices Matt shifting closer to the couch as Karen speaks.

“I mean, I’ve seen my fair share of kids with dislocated joints growing up, and it normally takes a doctor and a couple of nurses to pop that back in place. But this guy barely touched me and my arm went right back. It was like he had super-strength, or something.”

Matt, Peter, and MJ all make noncommittal noises and the once comfortable silence around them suddenly turns heavy and stiff.

\---

MJ wakes up in the middle of the night, nauseous; Peter’s body no longer next to hers. She feels incredibly ill, almost like it’s motion sickness.

She sits up in bed, swinging her legs off to touch the cold, hardwood floor, resting her head in her hands. Despite MJ’s eyes being closed, it feels like the entire room is spinning.

At least five minutes pass and the spinning doesn’t seem to be stopping. It’s starting to _anger_ MJ.

After a few more minutes, she falls to the ground on her hands and knees, clutching her stomach. Beginning to heave, MJ braces herself, then she starts to vomit. Except it isn’t bile that comes out. It’s a black, tar-like substance.

Freaking out, MJ shoots up to her feet, stumbling back onto the bed, causing it to snap easily in half. Her heart is pounding twice as fast in her chest, and she starts to get a terrible feeling deep in her bones.

Getting up once more, she slowly walks to the window in Peter’s bedroom, somehow already knowing that once she looks out, she’ll regret it.

MJ pushes the white, cloth curtain to the side ,nd her hand smacks over her mouth.

It looks like the city is on fire. Red and oranges flickering off of everything, cars and windows smashed, people running rampage throughout the streets, onto buildings. Some don’t even look human anymore, and the sounds they make raise goosebumps on MJ’s skin.

New York City is a warzone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Scroll to the bottom if you would like to know what it is.

MJ can’t take her eyes off of the absolute havoc happening outside the building, but her body protests, turning the nausea from earlier into nervous energy that runs like electricity beneath her skin. It makes her want to just jump out the window and into the chaotic city.

Talking herself out of it with much struggle, MJ steps away from the window and searches the room for her phone, finding it underneath the rubble that was once Peter’s bed.

But as she turns it on and tries to call Peter, to ask what the hell is going on and if he’s okay, she gets a message that there is no signal, and no calls can be made to and from this phone.

Her blood boils, and after the fifth dial, she throws the device across the room with so much force that the device dents the wall and shatters on impact. A second later she looks at the shards on the floor in complete surprise, as if she was caught off guard by what she just did.

Running out into the living area, MJ calls Matt’s name, but he too seems to be out, and all of the confusion and energy inside her just bursts, and MJ can’t stop herself from running out into the street.

* * *

 If things seemed mad from the outside, they’re even more frightening once you’re in the middle of it.

People of all ages, builds, and sizes are taking over the streets, destroying everything they see in front of them; store windows, fire hydrants, vehicles, even walls and the pavement.

The look in their eyes is manic, and a lot of them laugh hysterically as they sprint around. MJ feels a bubble of crazed laughter rising up inside of her as well, but it’s interrupted by a person crashing head-first into a metal sign right next to her. The force of the impact should’ve been enough to kill them, but they just get up as if nothing had happened and continue to run rampage through the street.

The vibration of the sign still wobbling hurts MJ’s ears. She doubles over in pain momentarily, and noticed others are as well.

Once the noise subsides, MJ looks around, she has to do a double take, as she notices quite a few people are standing on walls, moving as though they’re on solid ground. There’s a mess of unidentifiable black gel and webbing litters the streets and every other surface available as well. Then she gets it.

The whole city has developed spider powers of some sort.   

As she watches the people near her, and feels things in her body she never even dreamt of before, MJ reasons it can't only be just powers like the ones Peter has. He has never turned destructive and maniac like everyone else is.

 _Peter_.

The thought of him stirs something deep in MJ's belly, and she has a hard time discerning exactly what it makes her feel.

Without stopping to think about it, she just bolts, and the faster her feet go, the stronger she feels.

When she sees a pile of cars blocking her way on the end of a street, MJ automatically jumps on top of one, bouncing off into the air, and catches herself with a web that shoots from her wrist the moment she wishes for it.

Swinging above all of the crazed citizens of New York, accustomed to the heights from moving around with Peter, she keeps her head focused on him, and goes in whichever direction she feels is right.

* * *

Peter's spider sense has been going off all night, but he can't seem to find out why.

From where he is, swinging above the city, everything looks fairly normal, and there isn't a supervillain in sight. But since he can't shake the uneasy feeling deep in his belly, he decides to perch up on a building rooftop and just listen, to see if anything out of the ordinary stands out.

He's been still for all of thirty seconds when a familiar figure comes running from behind him, stopping at his side.

“What are you doing just standing here?!” The mysterious masked man asks with an urgency to his voice Peter had never heard before.

Already bracing himself for bad news, he asks what the problem is, and he couldn't have imagined the answer that comes in a million years.

Barely waiting for the other man to finish, Peter jumps off the building and swings straight towards the center of the city, the masked man not far behind him on the buildings.

As they get to the thick of it and see the mayhem the city has become, Peter’s thoughts go to one thing.

 _Mary Jane_.

* * *

She can feel herself getting closer to Peter, but the mess of people around confuses MJ, and she has a hard time narrowing down where she should go to next.

Looking up and down as she swings, suddenly a red and blue blur passes through a few blocks over, and she knows where she needs to go.

Peter and the man in the mask land on the street and can barely absorb what's happening, but Peter thinks fast and starts getting the people who seemed the least crazed out of the path of destruction, including a few crying children.

The masked man helps some, but spends a lot of time with one distressed child in particular, cutting pieces of his own shirt to wrap around her wounds, and seems to have a conversation with her before returning to where Peter is.

“What the hell is going on?!” Peter asks, half-rhetorically, half-desperately.

“There’s something not right about these people,” the other man answers. “I can smell a stench of chemicals coming from all of them, something I can't recognize.”

“Do you think they've been poisoned?” Peter says, but gets interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey, Spider-Man!”

MJ is a few meters from the two men, but if he didn't know her so well, Peter wouldn't have been able to recognize her. Not only is she completely disheveled, but her eyes look nothing like the ones he's come to know as home; instead they look animalistic and hostile.

Peter opens his mouth to call her name, but before he does, MJ sprints to him faster than he's ever seen her move before, and her hands wrap fiercely around his throat.

* * *

“M… M..” Peter tries to get out, but her thumb is crushing his windpipe. Her eyes look absolutely mad, the fire in them burning more ferociously than the city that’s engulfed in flames around them.

The masked man is paralyzed in shock, and it takes him a while to snap to and make his way towards them, but Peter panics.

“NO!” He manages to yell, reaching an arm out to keep him at a distance, and his voice tears with the effort. He doesn't know if the man recognizes MJ from their previous encounters, and doesn't want him to hurt, or even touch her.

Hesitating a little at Peter’s words, the man in black still steps forward slowly, but eventually pauses midway and just stands idly, watching.

“Look… At….. Me..” Peter tries everything in his power to get the sentence out, his hands wrapped around MJ’s, which are still on his throat.

The manic smile on MJ’s lips flicker for a faint moment; a blur of confusion. But this conflict seems to now anger her. She picks Peter up effortlessly and throws him into a nearby building, and he’s shocked at her power when he collides into it. Before he’s able to get his bearings, she comes back with another blow to his stomach.

Despite himself, he stands up.

“Mary Jane, don’t do this. You know I can’t fight back.” His voice is small and quiet.

“FIGHT ME!” MJ roars, flashing her teeth like an animal.

Peter takes a defensive stance, hands raised by his chest as he inches towards her, urging her to understand.

As if she hasn't heard a thing, MJ growls and runs towards him again, but he jumps out of the way in time, latching onto the top of a lamppost.

In the meantime, the man in the mask keeps circling around MJ, keeping as much of a distance as he can. He fights any stray people that wander onto the street they're in, knowing that whatever's happening needs to be dealt with as privately as possible in this mess.

“Come on, you coward!” MJ screams, climbing up the post to reach Peter, but he dodges her, leaping to the wall of a store, then back to the ground, hoping to maybe tire her out long enough that he can talk to her. But she isn't having it.

MJ eyes him like a prey, and her hands ball into fists before she attacks again, this time scratching Peter viciously on the face, tearing a good chunk of his mask off, and he stumbles back, the masked man’s hands the only thing keeping him from falling.

Peter reaches his hand up to his lips that are now exposed and touches them. There’s blood on his gloves.

“We have to do something,” The man with the black mask whispers as he helps his companion up. “You're not gonna last much longer. She’s too strong right now.”

But all Peter does is brush the man off, and stands up straight again.

MJ comes for another lunge, but this time Peter is quicker. He grabs her wrists, spins her around, and slams her into the concrete beneath them stronger than he thought he would ever handle her. His stomach twists and turns at what he had to do.

He pins her wrists above her head, hovering over top of her. She kicks and screams, but Peter holds her, staring down at her with tears welling up in his eyes. The noises of the city being in complete chaos float around them, and he knows New York needs him right now.

But he can’t leave her side.

“Mary Jane, _please…_ ” Peter pleads.

Her furrowed brow and clenched teeth soften when she looks into his eyes. A moment passes and she takes in a quick, deep breath, then starts to cough uncontrollably. Peter’s grip loosens around her arms a little at the sudden change in her demeanor.

“Come back to me.” He wills again, and MJ seems to stop breathing.

He slides his hands down her arms to cup her face. It might be crazy, but he kisses her cheek. Then he kisses her other one. He kisses her all over till he finally kisses her lips.

With tears streaming down her eyes, MJ takes in another deep breath and looks at Peter for a long time, and it takes him by surprise when she flings her arms around his neck in an embrace.

“I’m sorry… _I’m so, so sorry_ …” She sounds defeated.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” His voice quivers, squeezing her as tightly as he can, his body still stiff from the emotional rollercoaster. “I need you to go back home now and to stay there. Lock all the doors. I need to figure out--”

“Not a chance,” MJ interrupts. “I’m going to help you.”

“Not only is that a _no_ on so many levels, but I can’t handle you trying to _kill_ me right now if you snap into that state again.”

“I won’t... I can’t feel that weird energy anymore...” MJ looks down at the cracks on the pavement where she was slammed into, feeling ashamed.

Peter just looks at her, debating it in his head whether or not this is a good idea. No, it’s definitely not a good idea, but he knows he can’t make her do something she doesn’t want to.

“We could use the extra help, I mean, it seems that all of New York has superhuman strength and whatever else power _it_ is…” The masked man walks up to them, contributing to the discussion.

“ _See_.”  MJ adds, looking at the city covered in the black, gooey tar. “Plus... I think I know something.”

“What?” Both of the men ask together.

“I think I’ve seen this substance before. Back when I went to yo--” MJ remembers the masked man doesn’t know who they are, “--my boyfriend’s lab. Well, Doctor Connors’s lab, actually. One of the other interns was working on something that was way too similar to it.”

* * *

What seems like hours pass, as the three of them move around the rooftops with MJ in the lead, looking for clues on how to stop what’s happening.

As the havoc around them continues, MJ perches up on a ledge and looks down at all the fighting, and something finally catches her eye.

“Over there!” She says, and points to what she’s seeing.

On the street, a young man holding a metal baseball bat stands frozen in front of a crazed-looking older man, who’s about to jump him. He’s shirtless, his pasty-white skin glimmering with sweat, hands balled to his sides in fists.

As he charges forward, the other man swings the bat to try and hit him, but catches the lamp post instead. The sharp, loud sound from the bang reverberates through the street, and the older man falls to his knees, hands clutching the side of his head as if trying to contain extreme pain.

Understanding what’s happening, the younger man pounds the bat again and again, leaving his adversary writhing on the floor in agony. Not long after, he stills, and a thick black goo crawls from out of his every orifice and escapes down the drain.

“It doesn’t like loud noises!” MJ exclaims urgently. “This is how we get it off of people!”

From behind her, the masked man speaks up.

“But we still don’t know what it is, or where it came from, or how to defeat it.”

MJ, knowing he’s right, visibly starts to deflate, but Peter offers a suggestion.

“Look, we have to get everyone to stop before they kill each other and there’s no city left to save anymore. Let’s get that gunk away from them first, and then we can go to the labs and see what we can find about it.”

“So, what can we use that’s really loud?” MJ asks.

“Follow me.” The man in black replies.

* * *

 Before long, they arrive at the biggest church MJ has ever seen, and they climb up to the bell tower.

“Is the sound going to travel all the way through the city?” MJ asks as they gather around the huge bronze bell.

“No, it will travel for a couple of blocks, tops, but even then it won’t be loud enough. We need to bring people here.” Peter answers.

MJ immediately offers to go out and be the bait so that people can follow her back, but before Peter can even say he would never let her go, the masked man interjects.

“I’ll go.” He seems uneasy, his muscles twitching every time Peter or MJ lightly bang on the bell to check its sound, as if the noise is bothering him deeply as well.

He hops out of the tower as Peter and MJ shoot webs around the bell, to help maneuver it so it makes the most noise, and they both keep an eye outside, waiting for people to start showing up.

“You know, it’s really weird seeing you swinging around and crawling on walls.” Peter says as the minutes drag on.

“It _feels_ weird to do all that,” MJ replies honestly. “Not bad weird, though. Just wish I hadn’t gone all crazy on you.”

“Hey,” Peter calls her attention softly. “That wasn’t you, it was this… _thing_. I know you would never do something like that to me. I don’t want you stressing out about it, okay?”

“But, Pete…” She tries to argue, but he lets go of his webbing to walk over to her and take her face in his hands, pushing his half-torn mask up to rest on top of his head.

“For once, let me win an argument, okay?” He says, and kisses her.

MJ rolls her eyes but smiles, and they sit up at the highest point of the tower overlooking the city, waiting for the man in the black mask.

“You know, if it weren’t for the weird alien like goo trying to kill us all, this would be really romantic. And it’s pretty cool that I can produce my own webbing and you can’t. _Ha_.”

Peter laughs and kisses the top of her head, but then pauses.

Looking up to see why the sudden change of posture, MJ sees Peter stiffen.

“What?”

“Produce your own webbing... I think I might know how to stop whoever is doing this. Once the substance stops latching onto these hosts and goes back to its owner.”

“Well, I’m right behind you, baby, you can be the brains and I’ll be the brawn.” MJ replies, not bothering to ask how he will do it, as it’s probably something really science-y and will go over her head.

They hear commotion coming from below, and Peter leans his head out of the bell tower to see, letting out a small “whoa” under his breath.

There are hundreds upon hundreds of people gathered in front of the church, and their masked friend is right in front of them, leading them.

Once he's out of the crowd and perched up on a building opposite from them, Peter pulls his mask down and retreats back to the tower to get in position.

“Okay, Red. It's showtime.”

Pulling the bell towards himself to gather momentum, he makes sure MJ is ready before letting it go, and both of them work their webs expertly as to not let the sound fade out.

It's almost deafening to stay there, and MJ needs to put her head out of the tower for a moment to gather herself, and to check if their plan is working. That's when she notices the man in black crouched over on the rooftop he is standing on, hands covering his ears.

He looks like he's in extreme pain, and for a moment she fears that he's also infected with whatever it is they're fighting, but since he hasn't gone murder-crazy like everyone else, she forces herself not think about it right now.

“Hey, it's working!” Peter screams over the noise, interrupting her thoughts.

The people in front of the church are writhing on their feet, and a minute later they look confusedly to one another as they see black goo moving of its own accord away from them.

Peter and MJ let the bell go so the sound can dissipate, and the man in black gets finally, looking ill. But despite of it, he jumps to the next rooftop and beyond, luring more people back to the church.

As another mass follows him, the ones from the first batch run in fear, making room, and the bells start again.

It takes them hours to go through a few thousand people, and the three of them are feeling exhausted and discouraged.

“We'll never reach the whole city.” MJ groans, as the masked man returns to the tower looking like death, and her arms nearly give out on her.

“I don't know how much longer I can keep running around,” The man says apologetically, and Peter stills the bell so he can think of another solution.

As they all sit racking their brains, a sound jolts the masked man, and he gets up.

“Can you hear that?” He asks, and MJ and Peter get up as well, moving towards him.

“It's another bell,” MJ answers.

“And—bank alarms, and car horns, and… police sirens.” Peter completes.

The whole city is engulfed in a chaotic cacophony, the people who have had the substance removed from them understanding that noise is the way to get it to come off, and everyone is trying to help with whatever they can.

“The city is working together!” MJ smiles, and the three of them cheering, giving high fives all around.

“New York, you beautiful mess, you!” Peter laughs, relieved.

After what feels like forever, the city slowly starts to quiet down again, and Peter crawls up to the very top of the tower to check if it's all over, and him, MJ, and the man in the mask slump down, frazzled, when he comes back, giving them a thumbs up.

“So, what now?” MJ asks.

“I guess we head to the labs.” Peter replies, already getting up, and MJ shoots a web onto a lamppost outside the bell tower.

“Wait a minute.” Their masked companion stops them. “If that substance left everyone else in the city and no one has powers anymore, how come MJ can still do that?”

The other two look at each other in confusion, and MJ drops the web she'd spun.

“Do I— Are these powers for good?” She asks, half scared, half excited at the thought.

“No, that's not likely.” Peter shakes his head, pretending not to notice MJ’s face falling a bit. “You probably just have a tolerance to it from so much exposure to—”

MJ’s eyes go wide and she makes a funny face, and Peter stops himself from finishing his sentence.

The man in black doesn't seem to notice anything strange, though, and Peter just lets his words hang in the air until MJ speaks up again.

“Uhm… Let's just get to the lab, figure out what that black jelly stuff is, and think about the rest later.”

Taking the lead, she swings out of the tower, and the two men follow right behind her over the leftover debris littering New York City below them.

* * *

If they thought the city looked destroyed, it's nothing compared to the wreckage in Dr. Connors’s lab.

The building itself is barely there anymore, the foundation visible through the gaping holes in the concrete.

Peter takes the lead and moves up through the ruins into the lab area, a weird feeling brewing in his belly. For a long time, working in a place like this was a dream, and when he finally gets an opportunity to follow it, it falls apart.

Angry at his selfishness, he shakes the thoughts out of his head and keeps an eye out for anyone that might've been injured and still left here, but there doesn't seem to be anyone around at all.

“Where did you see the substance before?” Peter asks MJ over his shoulder as the three of them move slowly past the rubble.

“Ned’s station, there was an extended lab right next to y— Uhm, my boyfriend’s.” She replies clumsily.

Peter immediately starts to move towards it when MJ interrupts him.

“I should probably lead, since you've never been here before, right, _Spider-Man_?” She stresses each word to make sure Peter will get the gist, and the man in black lets out an amused huff from behind them, but covers it up quickly with a cough.

MJ takes the helm, and instead of being faced with a fancy safety operating system like she was the last time she was here, the entire door has been ripped straight off from the wall.

They all move carefully and quietly towards Ned’s lab, but rounding the corner, they are met with the most gruesome, terrifying beast they’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s hard to tell who gasps the loudest in shock.

It looks alien. With at least eight and a half feet in height, as black as the substance that hung all around New York, and with claws as big as MJ’s forearm. But what is most unsettling is its gigantic mouth gaping open with razor sharp teeth, and a tongue so long it could strangle somebody from across the room.

MJ places her hand over her mouth, and despite everything she has been through in her lifetime, including encountering her fair share of monsters, she has never felt terror like this.

“Y-y-you said you had a… Plan?” MJ whispers at Peter.

Before he can respond, the beast charges towards the trio, and Peter pushes MJ forcefully out of the way, leaping over the monster in the nick of time.

“Over here!” Peter yells, and the creature spins around to see who shouted.

Peter and the masked man lead it out of the lab, through a broken down wall and into the deserted street.

“It uses itself as webbing…” Peter whispers to his partner. “Maybe we can take advantage of that, wear him out, like blood dripping from a wound. Make him use his own webbing as much as you can.”

Nodding once, the man in the mask starts jumping over cars, grabbing onto lampposts and landing on different high buildings, urging the monster to follow him like a game of cat and mouse.

Watching them chase each other, Peter notices how the creature never quite gets close enough to the masked man, not even as it shoots its webbing out towards him. It’s as if he knows where every movement will come from before it does, like a built-in radar sense.

“Hey, you piece of gunk!” Peter shouts out again.

The beast spins around and starts to swing towards Spider-Man. Peter swings up high into the sky, web shooting higher and higher as it follows behind him.

“Hey, down here!” The masked man calls.

The black creature seems to be catching on that they’re trying to tire it out. Instead of webbing this time, it drops down from the sky in front of the masked man and swings its enormous fist, but the man dodges it completely, again, and again.

Peter finds a metal rod and smacks it against a fire hydrant, trying to help distract the creature. Little does he know, this torments the masked man, too, who falters back, stumbling. 

The monster covers its ears in anger, and with much pain and aggression, knocks the masked man in the head with its fist, and the man doubles on the floor instantly.

Spider-Man comes rushing down to see his partner lying flat on the concrete, the mask that covered the upper half of his face strewn next to him. He shoots some webbing at his opponent and swings it so the monster goes flying into a wall. This buys them some time to recover.

“Are you alri--” Peter looks down at the once masked man to see it’s none other than his blind roommate, Matthew Murdock.

Peter looks away instantly as Matt comes to and sits up with difficulty, not noticing at first that his face is now bare.

Still staring off into the distance, Peter’s brain is unable to compute what he’s just seen. It’s only when Matt runs a hand over his brow to wipe at the blood dripping there that he realizes what’s happening.

“Peter, I…” Matt begins.

“Peter?!” _Spider-Man_ retorts, still not making eye contact.

“I mean, I… Uh…” Matt stutters, trying to cover up the slip, but realizes it’s too late.

“That obvious, huh?” Peter says, and Matt shrugs apologetically.  “But you… No, not so much. You’re a freakin’ daredevil… Are you even _blind_?”

“Look, I can explain everything later, okay?” Matt replies as he grabs his mask and slides it over his face again. “Right now we have bigger things to deal with.”

“Right. Giant, mutant aliens… So, was it a radioactive bug bite with you, or what?” Peter clearly can’t let it go.

Matt’s face is completely blank in response.

“Alright, alright.” Peter drops it.

As the two men are talking, the creature gets its bearings, and stands up again, looking frazzled and weakened, but still every bit as menacing as before. The three all get into battle stance.

From the inside of the wrecked building, MJ watches the monster leave his webbing hanging all over the block as it chases the two men around, and as time passes, she can swear it seems to be getting smaller in both size and strength.

Running back into the lab, she searches for anything that she can use against the creature, and a pile of cinder blocks catches her attention. She notices her strength, too, is slowly leaving her, but she heaves the heavy cement with all her might.

“Guys, bring it here!” MJ yells, now propping herself up on the highest remains of the wall outside the labs, holding the blocks in her other hand on a web-made sac.

The two men rush over to where she is, taunting the monster to follow them, and just before they hit the wall MJ is on, Peter shoots a web and swings up the building, and Matt parkours over to the second floor, leaving the creature alone on the street for a moment.

Not wasting any time, MJ drops the cinder blocks onto the monster’s head, and the black substance of its body starts to wiggle, seemingly wanting to both get away and stay right where it is.

Coming down from the wall, MJ looks to the street, and gets yet another shock. As the monster’s skin moves around, she can see a person beneath it, and it’s someone that she’s seen before.

“E-Eddie Brock?” MJ doesn’t even realize she’s saying it.

“AGH… MUST… DESTROY!”

She’s not quite sure whether it’s Eddie or the creature yelling out, but eventually, the blow to the head gets the best out of the symbiote, and it starts to detach from the host completely, sliding away.

Before it gets too far, Peter lands near MJ with some sort of container collected from the lab, and catches the substance so it can’t find another person to latch onto.

On the floor, Eddie looks nothing like the annoying, cocky guy relentlessly coming on to MJ. As she looks at him, MJ wonders if he had any choice in being the creature’s host, or if it was forced upon him against his will. And what does being bound to something like that do to your head?

“I need you to take this to the police, if you can. I’ll start damage control.” Peter speaks up, addressing Matt, who nods and takes the container from him.

“Are you okay?” Peter walks towards MJ, who is pretty shaken up.

“I-- I think so. I think it’s just wearing off of me now. I don’t feel so good.” She replies.

Peter starts to rub her back and gets ready to take her home. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be that simple, if simple is what you’d call today so far.

“Spider-Man.” A menacing, familiar voice calls out.

They both look up, and Matt, who was on his way to the nearest police station, freezes in his spot.

The Vulture is flying above them, Doctor Octopus is attached to a nearby building, Kraven The Hunter is ready to charge forward, Sandman is rising from the ground, and the Green Goblin is hovering a few meters in the distance.

“I see you’ve somehow managed to take down the sixth member of our little group. But, rest assured, it won’t be that easy to defeat the rest of us!” The Goblin cackles maniacally.

This fight is _far_ from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning]: Violence
> 
> find us on tumblr! [broegan](http://mjwatson.tumblr.com) & [mari](http://clayappuzzo.tumblr.com)


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